This bramble seemed to catch his honour on its slippery path down hill. He made the proposal, however, diffidently, lest it might hurt the sensitive susceptibilities of race and social station. But she broke into deep, cooing laughter.
“You dear, wise stupid,” she said. “That’s the very plan I have been dreaming over, night and day, for weeks. And I wouldn’t tell you until I felt you would agree. I have worked out every little detail.”
“Expound them all to me.”
She brushed his ear quickly with her lips.
“On Tuesday,” she whispered.
Then she rose quickly from the seat and turned gaily, facing him.
“Let us walk about and be proud of ourselves.”