“No—”
“Come! That’s better.”
“But it’s not against her will. She knows that. Simply looking at her happiness—”
“You won’t make her very happy in your present state, Gaymer,” said O’Rane sharply. “It’s more than time for you to steady down and find some work to do.”
“That’s my business,” murmured Gaymer unamiably.
“No, it’s ours, if you want our help. Lane has seen her this evening; he’s come to the conclusion that she wants to marry you rather than him. He’s given way in your favour. It’s not an easy thing to do, it’s not an easy position for her; she’s torn in two and very unhappy. Lane’s going abroad—for his health. He’s leaving her on such terms that she can do what she likes without having any cause to reproach herself; she can marry you with a good conscience. And you’ve to shew that you’re worthy of what’s being done for you; she’s being made over to your care. How long will it take you to find some work?”
Gaymer looked uncomprehendingly from one to the other.
“I don’t know,” he answered stupidly.
O’Rane turned to Eric.
“Have you any money?,” he asked.