"But when we're married," said Jimmy, "you'll more or less have to. I mean to say, it's the regular thing then. So I've always understood. And as we're engaged to be married now——"
"We're not."
"Well, as good as engaged."
"We're not as good as engaged. I've told you that a dozen times at least, Jimmy. The most that I ever said was that we might be some time or other."
"Can't see why not now," said Jimmy. "Here we are facing unknown dangers together, practically in the dark, and I've only one match left, pelted with stones by the ghosts of desperate smugglers, lost in the depths of a cavern measureless to man. If you won't agree to marry me now, Beth, I don't see how you ever will. It's a priceless opportunity. In all the novels I've ever read the heroine's maidenly resistance invariably collapses in the hour of peril—far less peril than ours, generally only a lion or a painted savage, absolutely nothing to a vengeful ghost."
"Jimmy, dear, don't be silly. I'm still a little frightened. Let's get out of this."
"If you're unmoved by the romance of the situation, though I don't see how anyone can be—— I say, just listen to that." The remote digger was apparently working harder than ever. The blows of iron on stone sounded clear and frequent. "How can you refuse to fall into the arms of your lover when a ghost is digging his own grave a few feet above your head?"
"Do talk sense, Jimmy, and take me out of this."
"I will. I'll do both. Talk sense first and then take you away. Uncle Evie was at me last night about you."
"About me?"