They've no
imagination--"
"All mothers have, I'm sure," she told him. "I'd have liked your mother
to be my friend. I'd have liked to write to her about you--"
"God forbid," he said fervently, and once more she gave way.
Later on that day they discussed ways and means. His definite picture of
getting married and staying in hotels in Sydney had made the dream
concrete. She had hitherto simply seen them both glittering along in an
aura of Deliverance. Right at the back of her mind she still clung to
pictures of knightly mail, obtained from she had not the slightest idea
where. But that fitted badly with hotels in Sydney and conventions he
was going to teach her. In the evening they went to their favourite seat
on the anchor and watched the phosphorescence shimmering away in ghostly
paths to the star-splashed sky.
"Louis," she said hurriedly, "how much does it cost you to get married
in Australia?"
"Lord knows, I don't," he said, sitting up sharp. "There's a music-hall
song about 'She cost me seven and sixpence; I wish I'd bought a dog.'
But that's in England. I've a hazy notion that it's much more expensive
in Australia than England. Why?"
"I'm wondering how we're going to do it. We've about eleven shillings
in the world--you see, uncle is meeting me in Melbourne. I had a cable
at Port Said to say so.
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