as though challenging her to detect in it aught but honesty. "I may be
several kinds of a fool," he said, "but I am in earnest. I'm no great
catch, but I'll marry you if you'll have me. I'll protect you, and I'll
be good to you. I can't promise to make you happy, of course,
but--anyway, I shan't make you miserable."

"But--but--" She still stood before him as though hovering on the edge
of flight. Her lips were trembling, her whole form quivering and
scintillating in the lamplight. She halted on the words as if uncertain
how to proceed.

"What is it?" said Merryon.

And then, quite suddenly, his mood softened. He leaned slowly forward.

"You needn't be afraid of me," he said. "I'm not a heady youngster. I
shan't gobble you up."

She laughed at that--a quick, nervous laugh. "And you won't beat me
either? Promise!"

He frowned at her. "Beat you! I?"

She nodded several times, faintly smiling. "Yes, you, Mr. Monster! I'm
sure you could."

He smiled also, somewhat grimly. "You're wrong, madam. I couldn't beat a
child."

"Oh, my!" she said, and threw up her arms with a quivering laugh,