"It may seem odd to you, but I'd rather see you dead than married to Prince Karl." She was silent. He went on: "Would you consent to be my wife if you felt in your heart that we should never leave this island?"
"You are talking nonsense," she said lightly.
"Perhaps. But would you?" he insisted.
"I think I shall go in, Mr. Chase," she said with a warning shake of her head.
"Don't, please! I'm not asking you to marry me if we should leave the island. You must give me credit for that," he argued whimsically.
"Ah, I see," she said, apparently very much relieved. "You want me only with the understanding that death should be quite close at hand to relieve you. And if I were to become your wife, here and now, and we should be taken from this dreadful place—what then?"
"You probably would have to go through a long and miserable career as plain Goodwife Chase," he explained.
"If it will make you any happier," she said, with a smile in which there lurked a touch of mischievous triumph, "I can say that I might consent to marry you if I were not so positive that I will leave the island soon. You seem to forget that my uncle's yacht is to call here, even though your cruisers will not."
"I'll risk even that," he maintained stoutly.
She stopped suddenly, her hand upon his arm.