was wearing thin, were a special type all to
themselves, solid and rather namby-pamby and tiresome.

"What very nice attics! I think the many angles which the roof
makes, the different slants, you know, are so attractive. Oh, and
the fascinating little window!" She crouched in the hollow of the
small dormer window. "Fascinating! See the town and the hills! I
know I should want this room for my own."

"Then have it," he said. "Have it for _one_ of your own."

She crept out of the window recess and looked up at him. He was
leaning forward to her, smiling, self-conscious, tentative, and
eager. She thought it best to laugh it off.

"I was only talking like a child, from the imagination," she said.

"I quite understand that," he replied deliberately. "But I am
speaking what I _mean_--"

She did not answer, but looked at him reproachfully. He was smiling
and smirking broadly at her.

"Won't you marry me, and come and have this garret for your own?" He
spoke as if he were offering her a chocolate. He smiled with curious
uncertainty.

"I don't know," she said vaguely.

His smile broadened.

"Well now," he said, "make up your mind. I'm not good at _talking_
about love, you know. But I think I'm pretty good at _feeling_ it,
you know. I want you to come here and be happy: with me." He added
the two last words as a sort of sly post-scriptum, and as if to
commit himself finally.

"But I've never thought about it," she said, rapidly cogitating.

"I know you haven't. But think about it now--" He began to be hugely
pleased with himself. "Think about it now. And tell me if you could
put up with _me_, as well as the garret." He beamed and put his head
a little on one side--rather like Mr. May, for one second. But he
was much more dangerous than Mr. May. He was overbearing, and had
the devil's own temper if he was thwarted. This she knew. He was a
big man in a navy blue suit, with very white teeth.

Again she thought she had better laugh it off.

"It's you I _am_ thinking about," she laughed, flirting still. "It's
you I _am_ wondering about."

"Well," he said, rather pleased with himself, "you wonder about me
till you've made up your mind--"

"I will--" she said, seizing the opportunity. "I'll wonder about you
till I've made up my mind--shall I?"

"Yes," he said. "That's what I wish you to do. And the next time I
ask you, you'll let me know. That's it, isn't it?" He smiled
indulgently down on her: thought her face y