“She only lacks a wooden overcoat,” Arym said, suddenly reappearing. “But I haven’t time for that now.”
I felt unnerved. “I just can’t get used to your tricks,” I said, staring at Lydia with morbid fascination.
“Didn’t you like that little exhibition?” Arym asked, not without pride.
“I thought it was swell,” I said, “but I can’t stand a lot of it. Look, sweetheart, will you untie me?”
“Oh, no,” Arym said firmly, “I want to talk to you first.”
“But we haven’t time,” I said desperately. “Peppi’ll come back any minute.”
She shrugged, “I couldn’t care less about that,” she returned, putting her arm round my neck. “I can do to Peppi what I did to her and think nothing of it.”
“Arym, you must let me loose,” I said feverishly, “I want you to do something for me.”
“I know,” she said, “but you’re going to hear what I want first.” She sat on my knee and began fondling my ear. That’s a thing I can’t stand, but I wasn’t in the position to tell her so.
“You’re going to marry me.”