"You are right," he answered gravely; and sitting down leaned towards her, his elbows on the table. "But there remains the fact that sooner than lose you outright, I am willing to marry you—on any terms. If you have no hope for yourself, could you not bring yourself to partially fulfil mine? Will you—in mercy to me—reconsider your decision?"
She looked up quickly with parted lips; but his raised hand enjoined silence.
"My suggestion deserves thinking over for a few minutes, if no longer. And in the meanwhile—" he smiled with a touch of his old humorous resignation to things in general—"we might do worse than have some chota hazri. What a brute I was to upset you before you had had a morsel to eat!"
She shook her head, with a faint reflection of his smile.
"I don't want anything to eat."
"Oh yes, you do! I suppose I must set you an example of common-sense behaviour."
He peeled two bananas with deliberate care, and set one on her plate. Then he lifted the cosy.
"That tea must be strong by this time; but the water's hot, and you can doctor it with that. Now—begin."
He himself began upon his banana, and she glanced at him in astonishment, not untinged with admiration, at his effortless transition from controlled passion to the commonplaces of everyday life. They got through the short meal after a fashion; and both were devoutly thankful when the demands of common-sense had been fulfilled.