Aunt Adelaide is looming on the horizon. She's about the most unpleasant thing next to chilblains that I know."
"I suppose," said Bowen tentatively, "you couldn't solve the difficulty by marrying me by special licence."
"Marry you by special licence!" cried Patricia in amazement.
"Yes, it would put everything right."
"I think you must be mad," said Patricia with decision; but conscious that her cheeks were very hot.
"I think I must be in love," was Bowen's quiet retort. "Will you?"
"Not even to escape Aunt Adelaide's interrogation would I marry you by special, or any other licence," said Patricia with decision.
Bowen turned away, a shadow falling across his face. Then a moment after, drawing his cigarette-case from his pocket, he enquired, "Shall we smoke?"
Patricia accepted the cigarette he offered her. She watched him as he lighted first hers, then his own. She saw the frown that had settled upon his usually happy face, and noted the staccatoed manner in which he smoked. Then she became conscious that she had been lacking in not only graciousness but common civility. Instinctively she put out her hand and touched his coat-sleeve.
"Please forgive me, I was rather a beast, wasn't I?" she said.
