“Then, if it would please you to go South for a few weeks’ rest——”
“Would it inconvenience you?”
Her manner touched him.
“My dear Miss Norne,” he began, and checked himself, flushing painfully. The girl blushed, too; then, when he began to laugh, her lovely, bashful smile glimmered for the first time.
“I really can’t bring myself to realise that you and I are married,” he explained, still embarrassed, though smiling.
Her smile became an endeavour. “I can’t believe it either, Mr. Cleves,” she said. “I feel rather stunned.”
“Hadn’t you better call me Victor—under the circumstances?” he suggested, striving to speak lightly.
“Yes.... It will not be very easy to say it—not for some time, I think.”
“Tressa?”
“Yes.”