"Well," Frederica said, slowly, "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't marry you."
He caught his breath; then struck his hand on hers.
"You're a good sport! I take back my accusation that you weren't. I could name several reasons why you shouldn't marry me."
"Name them."
"Fred, look here; this is a serious business with me. I can't talk about it."
"I want to talk about it. I'd like to know your reasons."
"To begin with—age."
She nodded. "In years you are older. But I'm not young any more."
The water stung in his eyes; she was right—she was not "young" now. "The next reason," he went on, without looking at her, "is that you are not in love with me."