no longer wicked. I will be the best wife in the world. Don’t think I am—bad, any more. If you do I shall die, I shall die.”
While he was consoling her, she brightened up, eager and impetuous. “Will you marry me to-night?” she said. “Will you prove it that way? I have a reason for wishing it to be to-night. Will you?”
Of one of two things was this exceeding frankness the outcome. Either of importunate brazenness, or of utter innocence. The lover’s perspective contained only the one.
“The sooner,” said Lorison, “the happier I shall be.”
“What is there to do?” she asked. “What do you have to get? Come! you should know.”
Her energy stirred the dreamer to action.
“A city directory, first,” he cried gayly, “to find where the man lives who gives licenses to happiness. We will go together
