"We're not," said Joan in a very small voice.
"Not what?"
"Married."
She held up a ringless hand in corroboration. Jimmy Marrable inspected it.
"Where's your engagement ring?" he demanded.
Joan felt that there was a bad time coming—especially for Uncle Jimmy.
"We—we're not engaged," she faltered. Then she continued swiftly, for there was a look on Jimmy Marrable's brown and wrinkled face that frightened her, and she wanted to get explanations over: "Hughie and I didn't quite care for one another—in that way. No, I'm a liar. I didn't care for Hughie in that way."
"He asked you, then?"
"And you—wouldn't—?"