"Do you like it?" Mark countered, his eyes dancing.
"Like it? It's simply sweet, of course! But whose is it?"
"Well, now listen," Mark explained. "It's Joe Kirk's furniture; he's just been married, you know. He and his wife had just got back from their honeymoon when Joe got an offer of a fine job in New York. He asked me to see if I couldn't find a tenant for this—two years' lease to run—just as it stands; no raise in rent. And the rent's fifty-five?" he called to the woman in the next room.
"Fifty, Mr. Rosenthal," she answered impassively.
"Fifty!" Mark exulted. "Think of getting all this for fifty! Ah, Julia"—he came close to her as she stood staring down from the window, and lowered his voice—"will you, darling? Will you? You like it, don't you? Will you marry me, dearest, and make a little home here with me?" "Oh, Mark!" Julia stammered, a nervous smile twitching her lips.
"Well, why won't you, Ju? Do you doubt that I love you? Answer me that!"
"Why, no—no, I don't, of course." Julia moved a little away.
"Don't go over there; she'll hear us! And you love me, don't you, Ju?"
"But not that way I don't, Mark," Julia said childishly.
"Oh, 'not that way'—that's all rubbish—that's the way girls talk; that's just an expression they have! Listen! Do you doubt that I'll always, always love you?"