I let her go reluctantly and sat back where I could see her.
"I haven't done this the way I intended to at all," I confessed. "In books they get things all settled, and then kiss the lady."
"Settled?" she inquired.
"Oh, about getting married and that sort of thing," I explained with elaborate carelessness. "We—we could go down to Bermuda—or—or Jamaica, say in December."
She drew her hand away and faced me squarely.
"I believe you are afraid!" she declared. "I refuse to marry you unless you propose properly. Everybody does it. And it is a woman's privilege: she wants to have that to look back to."
"Very well," I consented with an exaggerated sigh. "If you will promise not to think I look like an idiot, I shall do it, knee and all."
I had to pass her to close the door behind us, but when I kissed her again she protested that we were not really engaged.
I turned to look down at her. "It is a terrible
