"Put a stop to," he repeated vaguely. "What must be put a stop to?"
"Your marrying a tramp."
"But I don't want to put a stop to it, and," he added as an afterthought, "you might get to like her."
"Like her!" Lady Drewitt spoke in italics.
"Perhaps it's destiny," he ventured with resignation.
"Fiddlesticks."
"But"
"I tell you, Richard, I will not allow this marriage."
"But suppose she were to insist. You see, she's rather fond of me, Aunt Caroline."
"If she attempts to sue you for breach-of-promise, the case must be compromised." Lady Drewitt spoke as if that settled the matter.
Beresford smiled at the thought of Lola suing him for breach-of-promise.
"They couldn't fix the damages high," continued Lady Drewitt, irrevocably pursuing her own line of reasoning. "You've got no money."
"As a matter of fact I was going to ask you to lend me two shillings for a taxi-fare," he said gravely; "I literally haven't a penny."
"And yet you propose to marry. Are you mad, Richard? Are you really mad?" She leaned forward slightly as if to enable herself to determine with greater certainty whether or not her nephew had entirely lost his reason.
