"Of course I mean it! What I gave I had, what I gained I lost, what I lost I gained."
"What do you mean, darling?" he whispered.
"I mean that the moment that stupid doctor allows me to get up—then you and I will skip off by ourselves, and we'll say, 'Hullo, here's a church! Let's go in and get married.'"
She waited a moment, but Bill Donnington said nothing. He only held her closer to him.
"In the night," went on Bubbles, "I was wondering if we'd be married in that strange old church near here, our church, the church with the animals. And then I thought no, we wouldn't do that, for I am not likely to want ever to come back here again. So we'll be married in London, in a City church, in the church where John Gilpin and his family went to what I suppose they called 'worship.' It's there you will have to say you worship me, Bill!"
She lifted her head, and looked into his face. "Oh, Bill," she said, her voice trembling a little, "you do look happy!"
"I am happy, but I—I can't quite believe it," he said slowly; "it's too good to be true."
"I hope you'll go on being happy," she said, again pressing closer to him. "But you know that sometimes, Bill—well, I shall dine at Edmonton while you do dine at Ware. It's no good my trying to conceal that from you."
"I—I don't understand," he stammered out. What did Bubbles mean by saying that?
"You'll know soon enough," she said, with that little wise look of hers—the little look he loved. "But whenever I'm naughty or unreasonable, or, or selfish, Bill—I'm afraid I shall often be very selfish—then you must just turn to me, and say: 'You know, Bubbles, when all's said and done, you're my Serf; but for me you wouldn't be here.'"