“I didn’t know I loved you so much,” he cried.
She sank into his arms with a sob, but it was a sob now of uncontrollable passion, and avid of love she sought his lips.
Basil had in his passage a little gas-stove, and presently, with a charming housewifely grace, Jenny set about making the tea: languorous and happy, she was proud to do things for him, and insisted, while she prepared, that he should sit still and smoke.
“I wish we needn’t keep a servant, Basil, so as I might wait on you.”
“You mustn’t go back to that beastly bar.”
“I can’t leave them in a hole, you know. I shall have to give a week’s notice.”
“Then give it at once, and as soon as you’re free we’ll be married.”
“Oh, I shall be so happy!” she sighed with rapture.
“Now, look here: we must be sensible and talk over things. You know I’m not very well-to-do. I’ve only got three hundred a year.”
“Oh, that’s lots,” she cried. “Why, dad has never had more than three-ten a week.”