Louis shut the door after her, and came back to Elizabeth.
“Number nine,” he observed.
“No, Louis, don’t.”
“I’m going to. You are in for it, Lizabeth. Your visit is over, so you can’t accuse me of spoiling it. Number nine, and a fortnight overdue. Here goes. For the ninth time of asking, will you marry me?”
Elizabeth shook her head at him.
“No, Louis, I won’t,” she said.
Louis looked at her steadily.
“This is the ninth time I have asked you. How many times have you taken me seriously, Lizabeth? Not once.”
“I should have been so very sorry to take you seriously, you see, Louis dear,” said Elizabeth, speaking very sweetly and gently.
Louis Mainwaring walked to the window and stood there in silence for a minute or two. Elizabeth began to look troubled. When he turned round and came back his face was rather white.