The young man continued to blush. “No—you must do me justice. You’ve not made a mistake about me—I see in your proposal, I think, all you can desire I should. Only YOU see it much more simply—and yet I can’t just now explain. If it WERE so simple I should say to you in a moment ‘do speak to them for me’—I should leave the matter with delight in your hands. But I require time, let me remind you, and you haven’t yet told me how much I may take.”
This appeal had brought them again face to face, and Mr. Longdon’s first reply to it was a look at his watch. “It’s one o’clock.”
“Oh I require”—Vanderbank had recovered his pleasant humour—“more than to-night!”
Mr. Longdon went off to the smaller table that still offered to view two bedroom candles. “You must take of course the time you need. I won’t trouble you—I won’t hurry you. I’m going to bed.”
Vanderbank, overtaking him, lighted his candle for him; after which, handing it and smiling: “Shall we have conduced to your rest?”
Mr. Longdon looked at the other candle. “You’re not coming to bed?”
“To MY rest we shall not have conduced. I stay up a while longer.”
“Good.” Mr. Longdon was pleased. “You won’t forget then, as we promised, to put out the lights?”
“If you trust me for the greater you can trust me for the less. Good-night.”
Vanderbank had offered his hand. “Good-night.” But Mr. Longdon kept him a moment. “You DON’T care for my figure?”