"I'll be responsible for you."
"You?"—in blank surprise.
"I'll attend to the material part of it, if you like. I'll see that you can afford the—patience."
"Mr. Neville, I don't understand."
"What don't you understand?" he asked, lazily humorous.
"Do you mean—that you offer me—an opportunity—"
"Yes; an opportunity to exercise patience. It's an offer, Miss West. But
I'm perfectly certain you won't take it."
For a long while she sat, her cheek resting on one palm, looking fixedly into space. Then she stirred, glanced up, blushed vividly, sprang to her feet and crossed to where he sat.
"I've been considering your offer," she said, striving to speak without effort.
"I'll bet you won't accept it!"