As coolly as if she had no prevision of what he was sure to urge, Olive, who wore a waggish yet shy expression under her garden hat, and who kept her hands deep in the pockets of her morning dress, said,
'What have you to say to me here that you could not have said in the vicinity of the tea-urn?'
'All that I have to say may be said in three words.'
'Three! say it then.'
'I love you; a confession that has hovered on my timid lips many a time.'
'I cannot listen to this, and I wish to have back my bangle. If Allan were to see it—good heavens!'
'I have said that it shall be buried with me. Do give me some hope.'
'Of what; permission to retain the bangle?'
'No; that you may one day love me.'
'I cannot.'