“I don't know. He has not asked me to marry him.”
“Perhaps he is married already?”
Sara met his eyes frankly.
“I don't know even that.”
Tim made a fierce gesture of impatience.
“Is it playing fair—to keep you in ignorance like that?” he demanded.
Sara laughed suddenly.
“Perhaps not. But somehow I don't mind. I am sure he must have a good reason—or else”—with a flash of humour—“some silly man's reason that won't be any obstacle at all!”
“Supposing”—Tim bent over her, his face rather white—“supposing you find—later on—that there is some real obstacle—that he can't marry you, would you come to me—then, Sara?”
She shook her head.