"Then you're on," she told him with a little nod. "Thank you, kind sir."
Bromfield drew a deep breath. "By Jove, you're a good little sport,
Bee. I think I'll get up and give three ringing cheers."
"I'd like to see you do that," she mocked.
"Of course you know I'm the happiest man in the world," he said with well-ordered composure.
"You're not exactly what I'd call a rapturous lover, Clary. But I'm not either for that matter, so I dare say we'll hit it off very well."
"I'm a good deal harder hit than I've ever let on, dear girl. And I'm going to make you very happy. That's a promise."
Nevertheless he watched her warily behind a manner of graceful eagerness. There had been a suggestion almost of bitterness in her voice. A suspicious little thought was filtering through the back of his mind. "What the deuce has got into the girl? Has she been quarreling with that bounder from Arizona?"
"I'm glad of that. I'll try to make you a good wife, even if—" She let the sentence die out unfinished.
Beneath her fan their hands met for a moment.
"May I tell everybody how happy I am?"