"You think she won't?"
"Oh, no, I don't," he smiled.
"And when she does! Will you tell her the usual lie?"
"Did I tell it to you?"
"You didn't ask me to marry you," she thrust back. "One treats the woman differently that one's going to share."
"Yes," he admitted doubtfully, "it's very possible one does. Only I think the sharing works the other way. One tells her the truth in common honesty."
"Never!" she exclaimed. "You tell her the truth in transcendental lunacy, and wish you'd bitten your tongue out five minutes later when you see she thinks you a sweep."
He turned towards her with a smile. "I'm afraid my transcendental lunacies are about done," he said.
She laughed. "To judge by the last of them," she retorted.
"The last of them!" he exclaimed reprovingly. "You shouldn't speak of marriage by so wild a name."