"Lucas!"
"Jean!"
He held her fast.
"You may be strong enough to hold me," she panted, "but you aren't strong enough to marry me against my will!"
"But why shouldn't we? Why the mischief, why the dickens, why the devil not?"
"Because you'd be bankrupt in a month. You've no sense, dear. Do get that into your head. By your own admission you have only just begun to sell your pictures. Wait and see whether it lasts—wait for a couple of years—"
"A couple of—! I won't, and that's flat!"
"One year, then."
"Twelve months? I can't, Jean."