"Vernon, dear Vernon!"
"Say 'darling Vernon'; that's better than dear."
"Oh, well, if I must—darling Vernon!"
"Say 'your very own Vernon,' whom you will marry."
"Vernon, I can't. I will not tie you to me and to shame."
"Of course you won't, you poor darling; but suppose—now I think this is about the stage when the hero and heroine had best sit on the sofa, or the heroine may perhaps faint."
"Vernon, what are you talking about?"
"We are quite comfortable now," he said.
He drew me very close to him, and put his arm round my waist.
"You little angel!" he said, "you darling! When I marry you I marry honour, not shame. Yes—honour, not shame. I marry the bravest girl on earth and the daughter of the bravest gentleman in His Majesty's army."