“Is that possible? How did they know it was for you?”
“I had been making inquiries through the Nihilists.”
“I wrote you a proposal of marriage, Dorothy.”
“It certainly read like it, but you see it wasn’t signed, and you can’t be held to it.”
He reached across the table, and grasped her two hands.
“Dorothy, Dorothy,” he cried, “do you mean you would have cabled ‘Yes’?”
“No.”
“You would not?”
“Of course not. I should have cabled ‘Undecided.’ One gets more for one’s money in sending a long word. Then I should have written—” she paused, and he cried eagerly:
“What?”