"Him as I shall marry, of course—if I ever do!" she answered.
"Then that man is myself, of course!"
"You are a sight too cocksure!"
"Am I?"
"Yes, and—very rough, I think."
"Oh, forgive me—did I hurt you—just now, when I—"
"You did!"
"Where?"
"Here, on the throat, Peregrine."
"Let me look," said I, peering. Then, "The wound is not apparent, Diana, unless it is—here!" and leaning closer, I touched her soft neck with my lips. "Did I hurt you anywhere else?"