She looked at him with a vain regret in her eyes. "You couldn't if we were married, and I couldn't anyhow. Ah no, Ned! It would spoil it all."
"Spoil what?" he asked roughly, for he began to feel himself worsted for the time.
"The something better," she replied gaily, "let us wait for that. I really don't want to marry you, Ned. I should hate it. I knew that when I saw your iris."
"Then I wish I hadn't climbed up to put it on your window-sill and wricked my bad arm into the bargain," he said sullenly.
Her face grew grave. "Did you climb up; that was very wrong."
"Was it?" he replied shrugging his shoulders; "but I'm afraid I'm a very wrong person altogether. At the present moment I feel inclined to--to--but what is the use--you wouldn't understand. Aura! for the last time, will you marry me?"
"No, Ned, I won't."
"Then that ends it," he said recklessly. "So good-bye."
She paled a little.
"Must you go?"