“Do you think me a fool?”
“No; I understand.”
There was a breadth in his tone which comforted her.
“You said: Marry him,” she pleaded.
“Yes, I did; perhaps I was the fool; but I didn’t say ‘for three months.’”
“Three? Six!”
“Never!”
“Five, then; I ought to know.”
A certain sharpness in her registry seemed to give it claims to be considered calendar. South looked up at her quickly, and she flushed scarlet.
“Well, five,” he said; “hardly time for a very exhaustive study of the married state.”