In an instant she was after him. "Ethel?" she cried, clutching his arm in desperation, as she saw the lady in question coming across the lawn. "You forget Ethel is engaged." Which speech was, to say the least of it, rather disloyal.
"What of it?" Peckover demanded off-handedly. "All the better. You allow engaged persons may kiss."
"Yes, each other. Ethel is engaged to Mr. Sharnbrook."
"Oh, Sharnbrook won't mind," he returned, with more truth than politeness.
Dagmar's clutch increased in force. "Mr. Gage," she exclaimed, in almost horrified protest, "you are never going to be so thoughtless as to wreck two people's happiness?"
"I wasn't aware of it," he replied, somewhat sarcastically.
"Oh, but you are," she urged vehemently. "Jack Sharnbrook is wrapped up in Ethel."
"Finds the wrap a bit too warm to be pleasant," Peckover observed.
"Sooner than see John Sharnbrook's happiness wrecked," the suddenly emotional and altruistic Miss Dagmar proceeded, "I would make any sacrifice. Mr. Gage," the moment was critical, and her grasp now intense, "you shan't make love to her. Promise me you won't, and—and you shall have a kiss, even before we are engaged."
Footsteps sounded on the gravel just outside the window.