At last he bent forward,
after a glance at the protectors, and said in a low tone:
"Come out into the garden. I've something to say to you."
"Why not say it here?" she replied in her ordinary voice.
Banstead bit his lip. He would have liked to call her a little devil.
But he reflected that if he did she would be quite capable of repeating
the phrase aloud, somewhat to the astonishment of Dick and Austin, who
might ask for embarrassing explanations. Instead he bent still nearer,
and whispered:
"I can only say it to you alone. I've been awake all night thinking of
it--give you my word."
"Wait till to-morrow morning, and by then you may have slept upon it,"
she counselled.
"You'll drive me to drink!" he murmured.
She rose with a laugh. "In that case I must go. I ought to be labelled
'dangerous.' Don't you think so, Dick? Besides, I'm going for a drive,
and must put on my things. These my letters? Au revoir." And, with a
wave of her hand she left them.
Banstead lingered by the threshold and took up an illustrated paper.
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