He had her locked fast against his breast. "You promise me something," she suggested. "Go to Harry--to Kneedrock, you know--and get him to tell you my story. You'll never want to marry me then; and I'll have a clear conscience."
"What rot! Fancy my fussing over your story! What do I care about your story?"
"But you must know it," she insisted, "because, you see, it will make it easier for both of us. After a while--when you've married that girl--you'll be glad that I was honest with you."
"I shall never marry the girl," he declared. "I shall marry you."
She laid her cheek against his shoulder. "If you marry me I shall get rid of you somehow," she whispered. "I love love, but I simply hate husbands. It won't do to marry me. You ask Kneedrock. He knows."
She could feel his heart flopping about in his bosom.
"You--you extraordinary creature!" he faltered.
"Yes, isn't it awful?" she asked. "I think myself it is shocking. But I can't help it. I am made so."
"Do you want to kiss me any more?... No?... Then step off my gown and I'll run back downstairs."
Sunday went off well. Some went to church and some didn't. Carleigh didn't. Nina didn't. They went for a walk instead.
"This is heavenly," said the man. "I'm so happy. You are an enchantress. I feel that before I met you I never knew what anything meant."
"Men all say that," she affirmed. "Men are very stupid. They get a little chain of pearly speeches together, and then they expect women to fancy that no other man ever even so much as saw a pearl before."
"Say what you please," he cried, all but caroling in his joy. "Only let me be by to hear, and let there be woods ahead where I may kiss you again."
"It's odd you should enjoy kissing me," she returned placidly. "It's droll. That's another thing I find charming in men. It's the energy with which they kiss a new woman."
Carleigh laughed heartily. "How rippingly you put it!" said he. "Come now, how many men have kissed you?"
She considered a little and then she yawned. "I don't see the good in troubling to count. I know now that you are not really in love, so why bother further?"
"Bother further? Not really in love? What do you mean?"
"Why, my dear boy, don't get huffed. Surely even you know that a man really in love can't put up with a conversation like that. Of course, I'm asked here to cure you of the blues; not to plunge you into a fresh trap. You know that. And it's nice to see how well I do it."