“You will ask me to stay?”
“Sometimes,” he replied. “Not too often, lest you grow weary of me and find fault with the housekeeping.”
“Pale pink would be pretty for the room decorations, and also be becoming. I would come more frequently if it were becoming.” She turned to look at his pictures. “Oh! here is a photograph of Launa. She gave it to you?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“She is beautiful, and what a queer girl! I had no idea her father’s death would make her so wretched. She was perfectly crushed. She behaved as if he were her lover.”
“He was very fond of her.”
“He was devoted to her. I cannot quite make her out. She is—there is a history somewhere. I did not know she had given you her photograph. I suppose she gave them to everyone. She did not keep them only for people she cared for. I am glad,” she said suddenly, “that I have enough money to do without yours.”
“I can give you presents.”
“And ask me to stay.”
“For always. I ask you now,” he said. “I beg you. Will you stay always with me? Not in these rooms, but we can have one flat together.”