_She_ wouldn't stoop to let any man marry her." Spenser puzzled over this, but could make nothing of it.

He felt that he ought not to inquire further.

He saw her anxious eyes, her expression of one keyed up and waiting for a verdict.

"I'd have only to look at you to know your mother was a fine woman," said he.

Then, to escape from the neighborhood of the dangerous riddle, "Now, about your--your going," he began.