Helen walked to the door, remarking, as she opened it: "You might have waited till I'd gone before you proposed - if that extraordinary invitation was really a proposal."
"But you showed no signs of going, and it would have made me feel very self-conscious to have said: "Oh, Helen, do you mind going, because I want to propose to Sally?"'
"You're both mad!" declared Helen, and went out. Sally rose to her feet. "Neville, are you sure you won't regret this?" she asked anxiously.
He put his arms round her. "No, of course I'm not: are you?"
She gave one of her sudden smiles. "Well, yes - pretty sure!"
"Darling, that's handsome of you, but deluded. I'm only sure that I shall regret it awfully if I don't take this plunge. I think it must be your nose. Are your eyes blue or grey?"
She looked up. He kissed her promptly; she felt his arms harden round her, and emerged from this unexpectedly rough embrace gasping for breath, and considerably shaken.
"Ruse," said Neville. "Grey with yellow flecks. I knew it all along."
She put her head on his shoulder. "Gosh, Neville, I - I wasn't sure - you really meant it till now! I say, is it going to be a walking tour, or something equally uncomfortable?"
"Oh no! But I thought we might do some canal work, and we're practically bound to spend a good many nights in peasants' huts. Can you eat goat?"