“All right,” he said, unconvinced.
“Certainly it's all right. I've done what suited me all my life. This suits me.”
“It suits me, too,” he said, “only I wish you'd tell your mother before somebody around this neighbourhood informs her first.”
“Let 'em. You'll be out by that time. Do you think I'm going to tell my mother now and have her stop it?”
“Oh, Marion, you know perfectly well that it won't do for a girl to ignore first principles. I'm horribly afraid somebody will talk about you.”
“What would you do, then?”
“I?” he asked, disturbed. “What could I do?”
“Why, I suppose,” she said slowly, “you'd have to marry me.”
“Then,” he rejoined with a laugh, “I should think you'd be scared into prudence by the prospect.”
“I am not easily—scared,” she said, looking down.