"Wait a minute." He thrust her from him again and pondered the problems that would face him should he and Deborah actually be successful in their effort to flee Belvoir together.
"Yes, Charles?" she asked him after awhile.
"It'll be all right," he told her, "if we can just get over the hurdle of your parents. I'll need a little money, some clothes."
"Those I can get ye," she replied promptly. "I have a small savings in my cupboard—'tis not much—just what I've saved from dress-making these two years past. And I can get ye some of father's cast-off garments. But what will ye do then, Darling Charles?"
"I'll have my problems, never fear," he told her. "But you seem to have forgotten one thing in my favor—I have lived two centuries in the future, Debby."
"And prithee, how will't avail thee in my time?" she asked him.
"Just this way," he stated confidently. "I know what the course of great events will be in thy—in your time, honey. Once I have obtained the ear and trust of someone with money to speculate I'll be able to take care of myself, never fear."
"And that is work for a man like yourself?" Deborah looked at him doubtfully. "Somehow it seems to me dishonest," she told him. "Ye'r taking unfair advantage."
"And what is fair in love and war?" he countered.
"'Tis a wicked and foolish saying—or so my mother has told me," the girl replied.