And then temptation whispered him its old "Why not?" While it was working in his soul like a fermenting yeast, he was saying:
"To think that we should owe all our misfortune to an infernal taxicab's break-down."
Out of the anguish of her loneliness crept one little complaint:
"If you had really wanted me, you'd have had two taxicabs."
"Oh, how can you say that? I had the license bought and the minister waiting."
"He's waiting yet."
"And the ring—there's the ring." He fished it out of his waistcoat pocket and held it before her as a golden amulet.
"A lot of good it does now," said Marjorie. "You won't even wait over till the next train."
"I've told you a thousand times, my love," he protested, desperately, "if I don't catch the transport, I'll be courtmartialed. If this train is late, I'm lost. If you really loved me you'd come along with me."
Her very eyes gasped at this astounding proposal.