"No—well, I came round because I couldn't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep for three nights. I haven't seen you since Saturday, you know."
"No, I did not know."
My heart began to beat in a sickening fashion. He leaned close to me over the sill. I put down the cup and took up the miniature. I thought if I looked at Ambrosine Eustasie that would give me courage. I went on dusting it, and I was glad to see my hands did not shake.
"Yes, you are so devilishly tantalizing—I beg your pardon, but you don't chuck yourself at a fellow's head like the other girls."
I felt I was "chucking myself at his head"—horrible phrase—at that very moment, but as speech is given us to conceal our thoughts, I said, "No, indeed!"
"Ambrosine—" (Oh, how his saying my name jarred and made me creep!) "Er—you know I am jolly fond of you. If you'll marry me you'll not have to dust any more beastly old china, I promise you."
I have never had a tooth out—fortunately, mine are all very white and sound—but I have always heard the agony goes on growing until the final wrench, and then all is over. I feel I know now what the sensation is. I could have screamed, but when he finished speaking I felt numb. I was incapable of answering.
"I've generally been able to buy all I've wanted," he went on, "but I never wanted a wife before." He laughed nervously. That was a straw for me.
"Do you want to buy me?" I said, "Because, if it is only a question of that, it perhaps could be managed."
"Oh, I say—I never meant that!" he blustered, "Oh, you know I love you like anything, and I want you to love me."