"Where shall I find the time for it
all?"
"A man finds time enough," he answered, "even when he's married."
"But I'm not a man, I'm a woman," she said. And in a low voice which
thrilled him, "A woman who wants a child of her own!" His lean muscular
right hand contracted sharply upon hers. She winced, drew back a little.
"Oh--I'm sorry!" he whispered. Then he asked her again,
"Will you marry me now?" She looked suddenly up:
"Let's wait awhile, please! It won't be long--I'm in love with you, Allan,
I'm sure of that now! And I'm not drawing back, I'm not afraid! Oh, I want
you to feel I'm not running away! What I want to do is to face this square!
It may be silly and foolish but--you see, I'm made like that. I want a
little longer--I want to think it out by myself."
* * * * *
When Allan had gone she came in to her father. And her radiant expression
made him bounce up from his chair.
"By George," he cried, "he asked you!"
"Yes!"
"And you've taken him!"
"No!"
Roger gasped.
"Look here!" he demanded, angrily. "What's the matter? Are you mad?" She
threw back her head and laughed at him.
"No, I'm not--I'm happy!"
"What the devil about?" he snapped.
"We're going to wait a bit, that's all, till we're sure of everything!" she
cried.
"Then," said Roger disgustedly, "you're smarter than your father is. I'm
sure of nothing--nothing! I have never been sure in all my days! If I'd
waited, you'd never have been born!"
"Oh, dearie," she begged him smilingly.
Pages:
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182