Paul pulled his moustache to hide a smile. "You would soon see what I should do," he said cautiously. He had learned that the terrors of the Unknown evaporate with fuller knowledge, so he did not enlighten Isabel; moreover he would have found a difficulty in so doing, as he did not know himself.
"What should you do?" she persisted.
"Like 'the story of Auld Grouse in the gun-room,' my programme is all the more effective for not being told."
"I don't believe you know what you would do."
"Don't I though?" And there was laughter in Paul's eyes. "Besides," he added; "what is the use of providing for impossible contingencies?"
"It is the impossible that always happens," said Isabel.
"Except when it is the unexpected," corrected Paul.
Isabel pulled a yellow rose out of her belt, and began picking it to pieces. "Why are you so keen on making me go out with you this afternoon?" she asked.
"Because I want to enjoy the pleasure of being with you, and because every man has a right to his own."
"Then you don't care about my pleasure?"