"I promised your parents I would not."
"You promised me, year after year, that you would."
Boodles tried to smile. She would have to be false to some one.
"I have left my father's house, and I am not going back," Aubrey went on.
"It will be terrible for them," she murmured.
"It would be worse for you and for me. They have known nothing but happiness all their lives. It is their turn to have a little trouble. They are bringing it upon themselves. I have told them I shall not go back until they are willing to receive my wife."
"They will never do that. Oh, Aubrey, you must not marry me. I shall spoil your life."
"If I lost you it would be spoilt. I am being selfish after all," he said. "And if you were left alone what would you do?"
Boodles said nothing, but the Tavy went roaring by, answering the question for her.
"I am going to take you away, darling." He was holding her tightly, and she did not resist much, perhaps because she felt she ought to give up a little to him as he was giving up so much for her. "We will be married at once, and live in a tiny home. I have got it already, at Carbis Bay, looking over St. Ives at the sea, a lovely place where the sun shines. We will have our own boat and go fishing—"