“You think, then,” he asked, “that there’s nothing more we can do to influence Fate in my behalf?”
Holly ran lightly up the steps, tossed the flowers in a heap on the porch, and sat down with her back against a pillar. Then she pointed to the opposite side of the steps.
“Sit down there,” she commanded.
Winthrop bowed and obeyed. Holly clasped her hands about her knees, and looked across at him with merry eyes.
“Mr. Winthrop.”
“Madam?”
“What will you give me if I let you stay?”
“Pardon my incredulity,” replied Winthrop, “but is your permission all that is necessary?”