“And when there is no swimming?”
“No Brassid—”
“I tell you there will be!” he threatened.
“Well, I’m glad to hear it; for I shouldn’t like this world so well without its Brassid—since I know him. But, Brassid dear,—there! the whaler again!—why must you marry me?”
“Because it’s every woman’s business to be married.”
“But not every man’s, then? So that I might marry some one else, and not bother you with—”
“That is just the trouble!” cried the savage in him again. “You will marry some one else if I let you get away from me.”
“As if I were game!”
“You are. The noblest game on earth.”
“Brassid!”