"Put your ear quite close. It's not a matter that can be shouted from the house-tops."
He bent his proud head down, close to the girl's lips.
"And that I love you," she whispered.
Then she kissed the ear the confession had been made into.
"And that you will marry me," he added.
"Perhaps, some day, twenty years hence," she said airily. "When I've had my fling."
Le Breton had never had to wait for any woman he fancied, and he had no intention of waiting now.
"No, Pansy, you must marry me now, at once," he said firmly.
"What a hustler you are, Raoul. You must have American blood in you."
She said his name as if she loved it: on her lips it was a caress.