Young Willowby tells me that it will take him two years to
make a home for you, and meanwhile your life is to be made a martyrdom
on my account. Will you put your freedom in my hands for that two years?
In other words, will you consider yourself engaged to me for just so
long as his absence lasts? It will save you endless trouble and
discomfort, and harm no one. When Willowby comes back, I shall hand you
over to him, and your happiness will be secured. Think it over, and
don't be scared. You will find me quite easy to manage. In any case, I
am a friend you can trust, remember, even though I have got the face of
a baboon."
So, with absolute quietness, he made his proposal; and Evelyn, amazed
and incredulous, heard him out in silence. At his last words she gave a
quick laugh that sounded almost hysterical.
"Oh, don't," she said--"don't! You make me feel so ashamed."
Cheveril's face was suddenly quizzical.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "I take all the
responsibility, and it would give me very great pleasure to help you."
"But I couldn't do such a thing!" she protested. "I couldn't!"
"Listen!" said Cheveril. "I am off for a yachting trip in the Pacific in
a week, and I give you my word of honour not to return for nine months,
at least. Will that make it easier for you?"
"I am not thinking of myself," she told him, with vehemence.
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