"Harry, I have found a way."
"A way?" he ejaculated, for to him there now seemed only one course open consistent with their necessities, and he feared some radical proposal as the outcome of her trance.
"For us to marry. We shall have enough."
"Where is the gold mine?" he asked indulgently.
She looked at him musingly with bright, searching eyes. In that moment she concluded not to reveal her secret. "Yes, a gold mine," she answered. "We shall have our million—perhaps two. Why not two?" She asked the question of herself, and it was plain that she saw no stable obstacle to her now widening ambition.
Meanwhile Spencer surveyed her with scrutinizing wonder. Evidently her transport was genuine. He knew her too well to doubt that there was some basis for her specific statement as to the money.
"Two would be better than one, Lydia. Let it be two, by all means," he said jauntily.
"It shall be two," she replied with the assurance of a necromancer confident of compelling respect for his magic wand by the performance of the marvels he has foretold. "You may kiss me, Harry—once."