All else, if one may say so without disloyalty, is but skin-deep." "Superficial." "Thank you, the expression is preferable, and I ask your leave to substitute it." "Solomon, my kinsman, is the noblest of men." "And you, Miss Marty, the best of women!" cried the Doctor, taking fire and a sip of the Fra Angelico together, and gulping the latter down heroically.

"I drink to you; nay, if I dared, I would go even farther-- "No, no, I beg of you!" Her eyes, downcast before this sudden assault, let fall two happy tears, but a feeble gesture of the hand besought his mercy.

"Let us talk of _him_," she went on breathlessly.

"His elevation of character--" "If he were to marry, now ?" the Doctor suggested.

"Have you thought of that ?" "Sometimes," she admitted, with a flutter of the breath, which sounded almost like a sigh.
"It would serve to perpetuate--" "But where to find one worthy of him?
She must be capable of rising to his level; rather, of continuing there." "You are sure that is necessary?
Now, in my experience," the Doctor inclined his head to one side and rubbed his chin softly between thumb and forefinger--a favourite trick of his when diagnosing a case--"in my observation, rather, some disparity of temper, taste, character, may almost be postulated of a completely happy alliance; as in chemistry you bring together an acid and an alkali, and, always provided they don't explode--" "_He_ would never be satisfied with that.