"Mayn't I pour you out some, too?" she asked, getting forward again. "I do love to pour out—and do you take sugar—? I like lumps and lumps of it."
"Oh—er—yes," Michael agreed absently, and then he went on with the determined air of a person getting something off his chest. "I hardly know how to say what I am thinking of, it sounds so strange. Listen—I also must marry someone—anyone—to avert a fate I don't want—What do you say to marrying me?"
The teapot came down into the tray with a bump, while the round, childish eyes grew like saucers with astonishment.
"Oh!"
"I dare say it does surprise you—" Michael then hastened to add. "I mean, we should only go through the ceremony, of course, and you could get your money and I my freedom."
The girl clasped her hands round her knees.
"And I should never have to see you again?" in a glad voice of comprehension.
Michael leaned forward nearer to her.
"Well—no—never, unless you wished."
Miss Delburg actually kicked her feet with delight.