She could but laugh at his whimsical suggestion.
"I'll keep nothing," she said. "An actress doesn't claim the stage properties; her paper crown, her gilt goblet, her royal dresses. Not a poor strolling actress like me, at least. Please, please—" her voice shook a little. He must be made to understand so much, jest and earnest. "Let me go out as you snuff a candle."
"Will you?" he said.
They had nearly reached the house; the glancing windows that had shone afire in their eyes were dark.
"I didn't come out to plan tragedies," said Barnaby. "I was sent to fetch you. The Duchess is in there with my mother. There's the Hunt Ball on in a day or two, and she wants us to dine and go with her party. I think she has some notion of keeping her eye on you. She thinks that I treat you badly."
Susan hung back.
"Must I go?" she said.
"Of course," he said cheerily. "I'd never hear the last of it if I went without you. And my mother is awfully keen on you eclipsing the rest. She's sending in to the bank for all the family trinkets."
"I wonder you are not afraid of my running away with them," she flung at him recklessly.
Barnaby laughed at her as one might at a foolish child.