Gordon came close to her. "If I ask it," he said impressively and with a queer inflection of his voice which Martha did not understand. "If I ask it, the thing is done. Come out to dinner with me and we'll talk it over."
Martha's heart sank. "I'd like to, really," she said wearily, "but I've never been out to dinner before, and Aunt Jane would be furious if I went."
"You are not responsible to—your Aunt Jane, as you call her—are you?"
"No, but—"
"There isn't any one else, is there?"
"Yes—no—that is—"
"I thought you were here alone?"
"I am alone," replied Martha, with a sudden outburst of rebellion against the conditions with which she had surrounded herself. "I am responsible to no one and can do as I please. Still—" she hesitated tearfully, "I don't think I'd better go."
"I've got my car outside. Come up to Rector's and have a bite. I'll drive you to the theater afterwards."
"Oh, I'd love to," cried Martha. "I wonder if I dared."