“My dear young lady,” he drawled, “allow me to repeat, ‘All is fair in love and war.’ Believe me, I love you most ardently.”
“No gentleman would press his suit at such a time as this!”
“Really now, I fancy I have always comported myself as a gentleman–”
“A trifle too much so, truth to say!” she retorted.
“Ah, indeed. However, this is now quite another matter. Has it not occurred to you, my dear, that this entire experience of ours since that beastly storm is rather–er–compromising?”
“You–you dare say such a thing! I’ll go this instant and tell Mr. Blake! I’ll–”
“Begging your pardon, madam,–but are you prepared to marry that barbarous clodhopper?”
“Marry? What do you mean, sir?”
“Precisely that. It is a question of marriage, if you’ll pardon me. And, you see, I flatter myself, that when it comes to the point, it will not be Blake, but myself–”
“Ah, indeed! And if I should prefer neither of you?”