"Do you want me to sign without reading, Angela?"
"If you will so far trust me."
He took the pen and signed where he was told to sign, without reading one word. If he had been ordered to sign away his life and liberty, he would have done so blindly and cheerfully at Angela's bidding. The deed was signed, and the act of signature was witnessed.
So that was done. There now remained only the ceremony. While the solicitor, who evidently disliked the whole proceeding, as irregular and dangerous, was putting up the papers, Angela took her lover's hands in hers, and looked into his face with her frank and searching look.
"You do not repent, my poor Harry?"
"Repent?"
"You might have done so much better: you might have married a lady——"
The solicitor, overhearing these words, sat down and rubbed his nose with an unprofessional smile.
"Shall I not marry a lady?"
"You might have found a rich bride: you might have led a lazy life, with nothing to do, instead of which—O Harry, there is still time! We are not due at the church for half an hour yet. Think. Do you deliberately choose a life of work and ambition—with—perhaps—poverty?"