"Well, what?"
"It would be, I think, possible."
"Then that means 'yes.' I like you very much. I hope a day may come when I shall love you."
"I want it clearly to be understood," said Florence, "that I do not wish for that day. I don't love you at all, and I don't want you to love me; but if we can, as you say, work in harness, perhaps it would be best. Anyhow, I——"
"You say 'yes,' my dear girl; that is all I need. We can talk over those curious ideas of yours later on. You are engaged to me, Florence—come."
He went quickly up to her, put his arm round her waist, drew her close to him, and kissed her on the forehead.
"I am not repugnant to you, am I?" he said, as she shrank away.
"I don't know," she replied; "I am selling myself and you are buying me: I hope I shall prove a good bargain. I don't want you to imagine for a moment that I care for you; but I am selling myself, and it may be best."
"You must drop all that kind of nonsense when once you are my wife," he said. "As it is, I bear with it. We shall be married before Christmas. We will take a flat in a fashionable part and see literary people. We will start a new salon. Now good-bye; I will call again to-night. By the way, how is the story getting on?"
"I don't know that I can quite finish it all to-day, but you shall have it by the time I promised."