What though the words in which she spoke were borrowed from the trashy novels she was always reading--they were true enough for all that.

George saw that they were true, and saw also that now was the time to speak about what he had been pondering over all day.
"And suppose, my own love," he said; "that your father should stay in his present mind, and not come round ?" "Well!" she said.
"What are we to do ?" he asked; "are we to be always content with meeting here and there, when we dare?
Is there nothing further ?" "What do you mean ?" she said in a whisper.

"What shall we do ?" "Can't you answer that ?" he said softly.

"Try." "No, I can't answer.

You tell me what." "Fly!" he said in her ear.