“Oh! I’m pretty strong,” she declared lightly, her beautiful eyes fixed upon him. “At first I used to feel terribly tired about tea-time, but nowadays I can stand it very much better.”
“But you really must leave the place,” Max declared. “Charlie should so arrange things that you could leave. His salary from old Statham is surely sufficient to enable him to do that!”
“Yes; but if he keeps me, how can he keep a wife as well?” asked Marion. “Dear old Charlie is awfully good to me. I never want for anything; but he’ll marry Maud before long, I expect, and then I shall—”
“Marry me, darling,” he exclaimed, concluding her sentence.
She blushed slightly and smiled.
“Ah!” she said, in mock reproof. “That may occur perhaps in the dim future. We’ll first see how Charlie’s marriage turns out—eh?”
“No, Marion,” he cried. “Come, that isn’t fair! You know how I love you—and you surely recollect your promise to me, don’t you?” he asked seriously.
“Of course I do,” she replied. “You dear old boy, you know I’m only joking.”
He seemed instantly relieved at her words, and steered across to the Middlesex banks as they approached Brentford Dock in order to get the full advantage of the rising tide.
“Has Charlie seen Maud of late?” he asked, a few moments later.