"Not at all," said Ashe. "I should take it very calmly. I am made that way."
"And then—I don't know how to put it—but I have fancies—overpowering fancies—and I must follow them. I have one now for Geoffrey Cliffe."
Ashe laughed.
"Oh, that won't last."
"Then some other will come after it. And I can't help it. It is my head"—she tapped her forehead lightly—"that seems on fire."
Ashe at last slipped his arm round her.
"But it is your heart—you will give me."
She pushed him away from her and held him at arm's-length.
"You are very rich, aren't you?" she said, in a muffled voice.
"I am well off. I can give you all the pretty things you want."