“Yes; a rather extensive lodging, bounded east and west by two oceans, north by the lakes, south by the gulf. Landlord’s a relation—my Uncle Sam.” 282
“Are you really going home, Scarlett?” he asked, curiously.
“I have nothing to keep me here, have I?”
“Not unless you choose to settle down and ... marry.”
I looked at him; presently my face began to redden; and, “What do you mean?” I asked, angrily.
He replied, in a very mild voice, that he did not mean anything that might irritate me.
I said, “Speed, don’t mind my temper; I can’t seem to help it any more; something has changed me, something has gone wrong.”
“Perhaps something has gone right,” he mused, looking up at the flying trapeze, where Jacqueline swung dangling above the tank, watching us with sea-blue eyes.
After a moment’s thought I said: “Speed, what the devil do you mean by that remark?”
“Now you’re angry again,” he said, wearily.