"Then tell her to plan her wedding to come before her funeral." As he rose to go, Roger took his hand.
"I'll tell her," he said.

"It's sound advice.

Good-night, my boy, I wish you luck." A few moments later he heard in the hall their brief good-nights to each other, and presently Deborah came in.

She was not looking quite herself.
"Why are you eyeing me like that ?" his daughter asked abruptly.
"Aren't you letting him do a good deal for you ?" Deborah flushed a little: "Yes, I am.

I can't make him stop." Her father hesitated.
"You could," he said, "if you wanted to.