"Doris, I have something to ask you," he said, plunging in miserably. "We have never really—formally been engaged, have we?"
"The idea! Of course we have," she said, laughing. "It's only you who wouldn't have it announced because—because you were too proud or some other ridiculous reason!"
"Well, now I want it announced." He met her glance and added: "And I want you to announce at the same time the date of the wedding."
He had said it—irrevocably decided for the path of conscience and loyalty, and it seemed to him as though a great load had shifted from his shoulders.
"Bojo! Do you mean—now, soon!"
"Just that. Doris, when this deal is settled up—and I'll know this week—I'm going to have close on to two hundred thousand—on my own hook, not counting what I'll get from the pool. I've plunged. I've put every cent I had in it or could borrow," he said hastily, avoiding an explanation of just what he had done. "I've risked everything on the turn—"
"But supposing something went wrong?"
"It won't! This week, we're going to hammer Pittsburgh & New Orleans down below thirty: I know. The point is now—when that's all safe—I want you to marry me."
"I have a quarter of a million in my own name. Father gave us each that three years ago."
He hesitated.