regard her earnestly. 'I feel sure, too, that you're so much older
than you look.'

To this day Marion says she's not sure whether this was intended as a
compliment or a deadly insult.

'Do you think,' he went on, 'that a man should ask a woman to marry him
only when she has reached maturity?'

Marion, moving well into the glow of the pink-shaded lamp, said it
depended on the stage of maturity. Nowadays, when women so often look
younger than they really are, it is difficult to tell.

He seemed relieved. 'That's exactly what I feel about it. But
supposing my mother shouldn't approve of my choice? I hate family
squabbles above everything. I have always maintained that I would only
marry the woman that my mother really liked.'

'Isn't that rather a handicap for your future wife?' asked Marion
gently. 'But why not ask your mother's opinion of her?'

'That's just what I want to speak to you about,' he put in eagerly. 'I
. . . I want to ask you if I can introduce you to my mother?'

The knitting fell from Marion's nerveless fingers. She can show you
the uneven row on the jumper where she dropped fifteen stitches at that
moment.

[Illustration: Marion dropped fifteen stitches.]