“Not murder, I promise you. She’s strong, and all she’ll get will be a slight headache to-morrow morning. You can’t imagine I’d kill such a charming girl!”
Miss Girton leaned across the table, thrusting her face down close to his, but in the gloom the shadow of his hat brim fell across his features like a mask.
“Swine!” she hissed.
He moved his hand protestingly.
“Your newly-acquired righteousness isn’t wanted,” he said. “I’m honestly very fond of Patricia, but I’m afraid she wouldn’t take me seriously as things are. So let us say that I propose to apply the rather unconventional methods of Miss Holm’s sheiks.”
“I am also very fond of Patricia,” said Miss Girton.
“You ought to tell her,” replied the man sardonically. “But mind you break it to her gently. No, my dear, that shouldn’t trouble you very much. On a suitable occasion I shall ask Patricia to marry me, and nothing could be more respectable than that.”
Miss Girton stared.
“Why lie?” she asked bitterly. “There are no witnesses.”
“But I mean it,” persisted the man.