A dimple dipped in one cheek. "I couldn't! I was going to the wood, on chance. Come along."
"No hurry. If tea's half cold, it can wait a bit longer." He drew a breath, nerving himself; then: "Tara—I've got a proposal to make."
"Roy!" Her lips quivered, just perceptibly, and were still.
"Well, it's this. Wouldn't it be splendid if you came along out—with us three?"
"Roy!" It was a changed intonation. "That's not a subject for a practical joke."
"But I'm in earnest. High Tower Princess, wouldn't you love to come?"
"Of course I would." Was it his fancy, or did the blood stir ever so little in her cheeks? "But it's utterly, crazily impossible. The sort of thing only you would suggest. So please let be—and come along in."
"Not till you promise. I'm dead set on this. And I'm going to have it out with you."
"Well, you won't have me out with you—if you talk till midnight."