n in at night that when the
world wakes up again you will still be a part of it; that is what you
give me. And its name is--Happiness!"

He had begun quite innocently; he had had no idea that it would come.
But he had said it. As clearly as though he had dropped upon one knee,
laid his hand over his heart and exclaimed: "Most beautiful of your
sex, I love you! Will you marry me?" His eyes and the tone of his
voice had said it. And he knew that he had said it, and that she knew.

Her eyes were filled with sudden tears, and so wonderful was the light
in them that for one mad moment Hemingway thought they were tears of
happiness. But the light died, and what had been tears became only wet
drops of water, and he saw to his dismay that she was most miserable.

The girl moved ahead of him to the cliff on which the agency stood, and
which overhung the harbor and the Indian Ocean. Her eyes were filled
with trouble. As she raised them to his they begged of him to be kind.

"I am glad you told me," she said. "I have been afraid it was coming.
But until you told me I could not say anything. I tried to stop you.
I was rude and unkind--"

"You certainly were," Hemingway agreed cheerfully. "And the more you
would have nothing to do with me, the more I admired you. And then I
learned to admire you more, and then to love you. It seems now as
though I had always known and always loved you. And now this is what
we are going to do."

He wouldn't let her speak; he rushed on precipitately.

"We are first going up to the house to get your typewriting-machine,
and we will bring it back here and hurl it as far as we can off this
cliff. I want to see the splash! I want to hear it smash when it hits
that rock. It has been my worst enemy, because it helped you to be
independent of me, because it kept you from me. Time after time, on
the veranda, when I was pretending to listen to Lady Firth, I was
listening to that damned machine banging and complaining and tiring
your pretty fingers and your dear eyes. So first it has got to go.
You have been its slave, now I am going to be your slave. You have
only to rub the lamp and things will happen. And because I've told you
nothing about myself, you mustn't think that the money that helps to
make them happen is 'tainted.' It isn't. Nor am I, nor my father, nor
my father's father. I am asking you to marry a perfectly respectable
young man. And, when you do--"

Again he gave he