ffocating heart-beats. She had enough of the Polkington
self-mastery left to think of the manoeuvre and its advisability,
but not enough to carry it out properly; the cup fell on the
doubled-up tea-cloth that lay at her feet and was not broken at all.
Nevertheless the incident and her own contempt for her failure
steadied her a little.

Rawson-Clew picked up the cup. "Do you not understand," he said. "It
is quite simple; I have put it to you before, too--not in the same
words, but it comes to the same--the plain terms used then were--will
you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Julia's heart seemed to stop for a second, then it went on heavily as
before, but she only asked, "Did you not get my letter, the one I
wrote in Holland about that?"

"The one when you told me of your arrangements? By the way you did not
mention that you were going to Van de Greutz's for the explosive, yes,
I got that, but it was scarcely an answer."

"I explained that it meant 'no.'"

"In a postscript; you cannot answer a proposal of marriage in a
postscript."

There really does not seem sufficient ground to justify this
statement, still she did not combat it. "Can't I?" she said. "Then I
will answer it now--no. It was good of you to offer, generous and
honourable, but, of course, I should not accept. I mean, I could not
even if there had been any need, and, as you see, there was not a
particle of need then, still less now."

"No need, no," he answered, and there was a new note in his voice;
"it is not a case of necessity or anything of the sort. Put all that
nonsense of justice and honour and gratitude out of the question, you
know that it does not come in. I own it did weigh somewhat then, but
now--now I want the good comrade; I don't deserve her, or a tithe of
what she has done for me, but I can't do without her--herself, the
corporal fact--don't you know that?"

"No," Julia said; somehow it was all she could say.

"You don't know it? Then I'll tell you." But he did not for she
prevented him.

"Please don't," she said. "You cannot really want me because you do
not really know me. Oh, no, you do not!"

"I think I do; I know enough to begin with; the rest of the ignorance
you can remedy at your leisure."

"My leisure is now," she said; "I will tell you several things, I will
tell you how I got the explosive. I went as a cook and stole like a
thief--you could have got it as easily as I if you would have stooped
as readily as