Muriel smiled ruefully.
"Perhaps," she submitted, "the real reason is only that I've always wanted so to travel and have never had the chance before."
But Stainton would hear of no reason but her first. He upbraided himself again for his stupidity in not guessing her need before she could have given it expression.
"I've been cruel to you!" he declared.
She stopped him with a swift embrace.
"You're never anything," she contritely vowed, "but just darling to me. I only thought——"
"I know, I know. Where shall we go, Muriel? How about France? I ought to see that syndicate, you know: I ought to meet those men personally. Then there's Paris. I have always longed for Paris myself, and now I shall have you for my guide there."
"Your guide, Jim?"
"Well, you speak French like a book, and I have forgotten nearly all of the little I ever learned."
"I speak school-French," Muriel corrected him.