'Ah, you should have thought of that before. Otherwise I have committed
myself for nothing.'

'I should have thought of it,' he answered gravely. 'But I did not.
There lies my fault, I admit it freely. Ah, if you would only commit
yourself a little more, I might at least get over that difficulty! But I
won't ask you. You have no idea how much you are to me still; you could
not argue so coolly if you had. What property belongs to you I hate the
very sound of; it is you I care for. I wish you hadn't a farthing in the
world but what I could earn for you!'

'I don't altogether wish that,' she murmured.

'I wish it, because it would have made what I was going to propose much
easier to do than it is now. Indeed I will not propose it, although I
came on purpose, after what you have said in your frankness.'

'Nonsense, Nic. Come, tell me. How can you be so touchy?'

'Look at this then, Christine dear.' He drew from his breast-pocket a
sheet of paper and unfolded it, when it was observable that a seal
dangled from the bottom.

'What is it?' She held the paper sideways, so that what there was of
window-light fell on its surface. 'I can only read the Old English
letters--why--our names! Surely it is not a marriage-licence?'

'It is.'

She trembled. 'O Nic! how could you do this--and without telling me!'