"I can't see any situation--except your being glued--I beg your pardon!--but I must speak truthfully."
"So must I. Our case is too desperate for anything but plain and terrible truths. And the truths are these: I touched the forbidden machine and got a spark; your name is George; I'm glued here, unable to escape; you are not rude enough to go when I ask you not to.... And now--here-- in this room, you and I must face these facts and make up our minds.... For I simply must know what I am to expect; I can't endure--I couldn't live with this hanging over me----"
"What hanging over you?"
He sprang to his feet, waving his dinner pail around in frantic circles:
"What is it, in Heaven's name, that is hanging over you?"
"Over you, too!"
"Over me?"
"Certainly. Over us both. We are headed straight for m-marriage."
"T-to each other?"
"Of course," she said faintly. "Do you think I'd care whom you are going to marry if it wasn't I? Do you think I'd discuss my own marital intentions with you if you did not happen to be vitally concerned?"