But I am going to ask it now." Joan drew back sharply.
"No! Please wait!" and as she saw his face cloud, she hurried on.

"Oh, don't be hurt! You misunderstand.

How you misunderstand! Take me in to supper to-night, will you?
And then you shall talk to me, and I'll listen." Her voice rose like clear sweet music in a lilt of joy.

"I'll listen with all my heart, my hands openly in yours if you will, so that all may see and know my pride!" "Joan!" he whispered.
"But not now! Not till then!" Harry Luttrell did not consider what scruple in the girl's conscience held him off.

The delay did not trouble him at all.