"Good God!" he said, throwing his cigarette overboard and staring straight at her in horror. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Nor had I. It was all just romance till you mentioned it to-day, and then—probably because I was doing such a prosaic thing as cleaning spoons and forks, I saw all the details for the first time. Wedding rings are made of gold. They must cost a tremendous lot of money. And if being married is only seven and sixpence, I don't see how we are going to spare seven and sixpence out of eleven shillings—we've got to eat something, and live somewhere. You can't eat marriage licences, nor use them as shelter. I've seen one once, belonging to Mrs. Mactavish. She kept it sewed inside the lining of her bodice, all among the bits of whalebone that made her stand up straight. It's a crackly thing like a cheque—"
"Oh, do stop talking nonsense," cried Louis, suddenly desperate when faced with a problem. "Marcella, what are we going to do? Oh, why did I spend that money? Why were you such a fool as to pay it back to Fred? He's drunk it all by now. It did him no good, and think how useful it would have been to us!"
"Don't be so idiotic! As if I'd be married with money belonging to him! My goodness! The best thing is not to be married at all, until we've worked for some money."
"Oh yes," he cried bitterly. "Just like a woman, backing out now things are a bit difficult! I tell you, if we're parted when we get to Sydney I'll be in with the first waster that comes along and start the whole beastly pub-crawl again—"
"But—eleven shillings, Louis!" she said, laughing at the absurdity of it.
"We've got to get the money!" he cried wildly. "If I do a burglary! Look here, Marcella, the only thing is for me to get boozed and borrow it! If I had half a dozen whiskies I'd go to the Governor-General himself and get it out of him! But if I were not boozed I couldn't ask—ask even for the job of gorse-grubbing or road sweeping. I haven't even the courage to ask you for a kiss if I'm not boozed."
He looked at her. His eyes were infinitely pathetic.
"Is there anyone about?" she whispered.
"Only the man in the crow's-nest," he said, "why?"