"Well, I do!" I fairly barked, and seizing the megaphone again, I set it to my lips and roared, "My fiancée!"
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Miss Barrison, in consternation, "I thought you were going to tell the truth!"
"Don't do that or you'll upset us," I snapped—"I'm telling the truth; I've engaged myself to you; I did it mentally before I bellowed."
"But—"
"You know as well as I do what engagements mean," I said, picking up the oars and digging them deep in the blue water.
She assented uncertainly.
A few minutes more of vigorous rowing brought us to a muddy landing under a cluster of tall palmettos, where a gasoline launch lay. Professor Farrago came down to the shore as I landed, and I walked ahead to meet him. He was the maddest man I ever saw. But I was his match, for I was desperate.
"What the devil—" he began, under his breath.
"Nonsense!" I said, deliberately. "An engaged woman is practically married already, because marriages are made in heaven."
"Good Lord!" he gasped, "are you mad, Gilland? I sent for a stenographer—"