Mrs. Bothwell went to the small room and did not return. John was glad that her dissatisfaction with the universe did not make her oblivious of the fact that Maggie and he were content enough with each other's company and did not require the presence of a third party.
He leant across the table and took hold of one of Maggie's hands. "You've not answered my question yet?" he said.
"What question?" she said.
"About going out with me," he replied.
"I'll go to the Royal with you next Saturday," she said.
"Ah, but for good! I mean it when I say I want to marry you!..."
"You're an awful wee fool," she exclaimed, drawing her hand from his and slapping him playfully.
"Fool!"
"Yes. I thought at first you were having me on, but I think now you're only a wee fool. But I like you all the same!"
"Am I a fool for loving you?" he demanded.