"No, I'm not. I'm talking sense—ordinary common sense. I wouldn't get engaged to any man on the strength of what happened to-night. You hadn't even thought of me in that way when we came up here."
"I'm not so sure of that," said Bunny. "Anyway, the mischief is done now. And you needn't be afraid I shall throw you over because—" an unexpected throb came into his voice—"I know now I've simply got to have you."
Toby sighed again. "But if—if I'm not worth waiting for, I'm not worth having," she said.
"But why wait?" argued Bunny.
"For a hundred reasons. You're not really in love with me for one thing."
Toby spoke with conviction.
"Yes, I am." Stubbornly he contradicted her.
"No, you're not. Listen, Bunny! Love isn't just a passion-flower that blooms in a single night and then fades. You're too young really to understand, but I know—I know. Love is more like a vine. It takes a long while to ripen and come to perfection, and it has a lot to go through first."
Again a sense of strangeness came to Bunny. Surely this was a grown woman speaking! This was not the wild little creature he knew. But—perhaps it was from perversity—her warning only served to strengthen his determination.
"You can go on arguing till midnight," he said, "you won't convince me. But look here, if you don't want anyone to know, we'll keep it to ourselves for a little while. Will that satisfy you? We'll meet and have some jolly times together in private. Will that make you any happier?"
"We shan't be engaged?" questioned Toby.