calmly:

"Thank you for putting it so nicely. But it is no use. Sooner or later
you and I will be obliged to consider a situation too hopeless to admit
of discussion."

"What situation?"

"Ours."

"I can't see any situation--except your being glued--I _beg_ your
pardon!--but I must speak truthfully."

"So must I. Our case is too desperate for anything but plain and terrible
truths. And the truths are these: _I_ touched the forbidden machine and
got a spark; your name is George; _I'm_ glued here, unable to escape;
_you_ are not rude enough to go when I ask you not to.... And now--here--
in this room, you and I must face these facts and make up our minds....
For I simply _must_ know what I am to expect; I can't endure--I couldn't
live with this hanging over me----"

"_What_ hanging over you?"

He sprang to his feet, waving his dinner pail around in frantic circles:

"What is it, in Heaven's name, that is hanging over you?"

"Over _you_, too!"

"Over me?"

"Certainly. Over us both. We are headed straight for m-marriage."

"T-to _each other?_"

"Of course," she said faintly. "Do you think I'd care whom you are going
to marry if it wasn't I? Do you think I'd discuss my own marital
intentions with you if you did not happen to be vitally concerned?"

"Do _you_ expect to marry _me?_" he gasped.

"I--I don't _want_ to: but I've got to."

He stood petrified for an instant, then with a wild look began to gather
up his tools.

She watched him with the sickening certainty that if he got away she
could never survive the years of suspense until his inevitable return. A
mad longing to get the worst over seized her. She knew the worst, knew
what Fate held for her. And she desired to get it over--have the worst
happen--and be left to live out the shattered remains of her life in
solitude and peace.

"If--if we've got to marry," she began unsteadily, "why not g-get it over
quickly--and then I don't mind if you go away."

She was quite mad: that was certain. He hastily flung some brushes into
his tool kit, then straightened up and gazed at her with deep compassion.

"Would you mind," she asked timidly, "getting somebody to come in and
marry us, and then the worst will be over, you see, and we need never,
never see each other again."

He muttered something soothing and began tying up some rolls of wall
paper.

"Won't you do what I ask?" she said pitifully. "I-I am almost afraid
that--if you go away without mar