But the question never came. To begin with, Reggie was so enthralled by
the funny play we went to that he forgot all about Jevons. And then
Viola's game, that started in the restaurant and went on all through
dinner, began again and continued in the taxi after the play. And though
Reggie was discretion itself, you could see that he had taken it for
granted--and no wonder--that she and I were, well, on the brink of an
engagement if we hadn't fallen in. As for Jevons, he simply couldn't
have conceived him in that connection. To Reggie, Jevons was simply an
amusing little scallywag who could write. That Viola should have taken
Jevons seriously surpassed his imagination of the possible. So that she
never was in any danger of discovery, and there was no need for her
manoeuvres. He couldn't have so much as found out that she had gone for a
walk with Jevons, because it wouldn't have entered his head that you
could go for a walk with him. People didn't do these things.

Besides, he never was alone with her that evening. She took good care of
that. She insisted on dropping him at his hotel, which we passed on our
way northwards. She actually said to him, "You must get out here.
Furny'll see me home. I want to talk to him."

And instead of talking to me, she sat leaning forward with her back half
turned to me, staring through the window at nothing at all.

That was how I came to propose to Viola in the taxi. I had been afraid to
do it before. I wasn't going to do it at all unless I was sure of her.
But it seemed to me that she had been trying all afternoon and all
evening to tell me that I might be sure.

* * * * *