Page:The woman, the man, and the monster (IA womanmanmonster00dawe).pdf/223

 idly. The floor was of baked clay worn smooth, and hard as marble.

“Oh, I shall put down a mat,” she said. “Besides, this is summer. We shall be gone before the cold weather comes.”

“Where, Andromeda?”

“Goodness knows. But we have a month before us. I’m going to be happy—for a month.”

They stood at the door of the bedroom and looked in. It was all white and fragrant, sweet with the odour of fresh-plucked flowers. She looked up at him, a look full of timid, wonderful joy. He caught her in his arms and kissed her fiercely.

“Be my wife, Andromeda,” he whispered.

“H'sch, stupid! What if she should hear you! I am your wife—the best kind of wife—one whom you can get rid of when you're tired.”

“But I don’t want to get rid of you, and I shall never tire.”

“Be content.”

“I cannot be content until I hold you legally.”

“Do you expect to hold a woman in that