At this point Paul’s natural tendency to tease a little got the better of him; but Adele also by this time had had enough experience to recognize his moods, and to meet him on his own ground.
“I should like to clinch it,” said he, “so that we couldn’t forget.”
“I’ll remind you if I see your memory weakening,” said Adele.
Paul’s countenance exhibited that sort of smile usually described as capacious. “I should like something to happen before we left,” and he looked doubtfully at her. Being a man of normal growth, the masculine desire for actual possession of his future wife had grown upon Paul recently in a marked degree; and the incidents of that particular day led him to speak out. He felt sure Adele would be sincere with him in response.
Adele as natural as he was, woman’s instinct told her to be cautious, in fact shy; and her intellect suggested that she act upon what she had just heard Paul say about people who undervalued themselves. Of course, Adele suspected at once what Paul hoped would happen; but she took her own way to make him ask for it.
“What’s going to happen?” said Adele, leading him on. “I mean what do you hope for?”
“It’s just this way; let me tell you.”
“I’m listening.”
“You call this a Cathedral, don’t you? I think it a first-rate place, myself.”
“Admirable for a short sojourn.”