"Will you think it over before you decide?" he said. "I will come to you, as soon as I am presentable, for your answer. For the present, would you not be wise to go back to your friends? I am too disreputable to escort you, but I will watch you to the palace steps."
He got to his feet as he spoke. He was still absently mopping his face with the scrap of lace he had taken from her.
Beryl stood up also. She wanted to be gracious to him, but she was unaccountably shy. No words would come.
He waited courteously.
At last:
"Lord Ronald," she said with difficulty, "I know you are in earnest. But do you—do you really wish to be taken at your word?"
He raised his eyebrows as if the question slightly surprised him.
"Certainly," he said.
Still she stood hesitating.
"I wish you would tell me why," she said, almost under her breath.