“Because you must. You will find me a tyrant in love, my Ruth.”
“I am not afraid of you, sir.”
“Then you should be. Think, child, I am an old man, already thirty-five; did you remember that when you made me king among men?”
“Then I am quite an old lady; I am twenty-two.”
“As ancient as that? Then you should be able to answer me. Make it soon, sweetheart.”
“Why, how you beg—for a king. Besides, there is Father, you know; he decides everything for me.”
“I know; and I have already asked him on paper. There is a note awaiting him at the hotel; you will see I took a great deal for granted last night, and—Ah, the whistle! What day is this, Ruth?”
“Friday.”
“Good Friday, sweet, I think.”
“Oh, I am not at all superstitious.”