“I am compelled to go to-night,” he said. “The train leaves at half-past nine, and we shall take the through wagon-lit from Pisa to Paris at midnight. If you’ll be ready, I’ll wire to Rome to secure our berths in the car.”
“Then you really mean to leave?” she asked in a tone of despair.
“Certainly,” he replied, puzzled at her strange manner.
“It will perhaps be better for me to remain,” she observed with a deep sigh.
“Why?”
“If we marry, you would tire of me very, very soon. Besides, you really know so little of me;” and she regarded him gravely with her great, clear, wide-open eyes.
“Ah, that’s just it!” he cried. “You have told me nothing.”
She shrugged her shoulders with a careless air, and smiled.
“You have never inquired,” she answered.
“Then I ask you now,” he said.