I'm getting on at the office, and if I
can squeeze some money out of the guv'nor, I shall set up for myself.
Of course, there'll be a pretty how-d'y-do over this at home, for
they're always wanting me to marry money, and unfortunately you've lost
yours. Not that I mind that, mind you. I believe in following the
dictates of your 'eart, and I know what my 'eart says. And now what do
_you_ say, Ida?"
And he pressed her arm and looked into her face with a confident smile.
Ida drew her disengaged hand across her brow and frowned, as if she
were trying to grasp his meaning.
"I--I beg your pardon, Joseph," she said. "I didn't quite understand--I
was thinking of something else. You were asking me--"
He reddened and pushed his thick lips out with an expression of
resentment.
"Well, I like that!" he said, uneasily, but with an attempt at a laugh.
"I've just been proposing to you--asking you to be my wife; and you're
going to, aren't you?"
Ida drew her arm from his, and regarded him with stony amazement. For
the moment she really thought that either he had been drinking too much
spirits at the refreshment-room at the station and that it was an
elaborate joke on his part, or that she had lost her senses and was
imagining a hideously ridiculous speech, too absurd and grotesque for
even Joseph to have uttered.
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