dry sherry in another apartment, my dear sir? Just so—just so———"
In another moment he had coaxed Parslewe out of the room; the door closed on them. Madrasia and I, seated at opposite sides of the table, stared at each other. It seemed a long time before I found my tongue.
"Madrasia!" I managed to say at last. "Madrasia!"
"Well?" she answered.
"Madrasia!" I continued. "This is absolutely awful! You know what your guardian is!—a dreadful man. Nothing will prevent him from having his own way about—about anything! Whether we like it or not, he'll go and do what—what he said he would do just now."
Madrasia looked down at the table, and began to study the pattern of the cloth.
"Well?" she said.
"I don't think it's at all well," said I. "Supposing—just supposing, you know—supposing we fell in with his wishes and—and got married. I'm just supposing, of course!"
"Well?" she said, again.
