“That isn’t the way,” said Lee icily. She hastily reviewed her glimpses of standard works.
“You must go down on your knees,” she added.
“I’d see myself dead sooner,” cried Cecil.
“You must.”
“I won’t.”
“Then I won’t marry you.”
“I don’t care whether you do or not.”
“But you promised!”
“I’m not going to be an ass if I did.”
Said Lee sweetly: “I don’t much care about the going down on the knees part. I’m afraid I’d laugh. Just say, ‘Will you marry me?’”