don't trust myself. I will not undertake to bind myself to you or any
one until I know that I can trust myself. It would be very jolly for you
if I married you and then we found that I really loved the other fellow.
I'm like that--selfish, unstable, susceptible--and very much ashamed of
myself. I wouldn't talk myself down so if you didn't know these things
as well as I do. Why you go on caring for me is a mystery. I'm no good.
And I'm not even sorry enough to cry about it--ever. I've actually
thought that I was in love--oh, ever so many times: sometimes with you.
What's the use? The only things I've ever been faithful to are the
dressmaker, dancing, and what in moments of supreme egoism I am pleased
to call my art."

"Barbs," he said, "you're an old silly billy, and I love you with all my
heart and soul. That's _that_. Don't forget it. Take pen and ink if
necessary and write it down. I'll try a little more patience, and then,
my blessing, if there's no good in that, I shall perpetrate marriage
by capture."

They both laughed, the girl with much sweetness. And she said:

"If you and I ever do marry, it will be with great suddenness." Her eyes
danced, and she added: "There are moments!"

"Thank you," he said gravely, and then with a kind of wistful gallantry:
"Could I kiss the dear for luck?"

She turned her cheek to him bravely and frankly like a child. His lips
touched it lightly, making no sound.

Far off in the native jungle the cave-man moaned, and shut his eyes and