She flushed.  Her features changed under emotion.

“Oh!  George!  I don’t know what to do.”

“Then you think he’s determined not to have anything to do with me?”

She was silent.

“You think he’s determined not to have anything to do with me, I say?”

“He may change,” Marguerite murmured.

“‘May change’ be dashed!  We’ve got to know where we stand.”

He most surprisingly stood up, staring at her.  She did not speak, but she lifted her eyes to his with timid courage.  They were wet.  George abruptly walked away along the deck.  The steamer was passing the custom-house again.  The tide had now almost slacked.  Fresh and heavier clouds had overcast the sky.  All the varied thoughts of the afternoon were active in George’s head at once:  architecture, architects, beauty, professional injustices, girls—­his girl.  Each affected the others, for they were deeply entangled.  It is a fact that he could not put Inigo Jones and Christopher Wren out of his head; he wondered what had been their experiences with women, histories and textbooks of architecture did not treat of this surely important aspect of architecture!  He glanced at Marguerite from the distance.  He remembered what Agg had said to him about her; but what Agg had said did not appear to help him practically....  Why had he left Marguerite?  Why was he standing thirty feet from her and observing her inimically?  He walked back to her, sat down, and said calmly: 

“Listen to me, darling.  Suppose we arrange now, definitely, to get married in two years’ time.  How will that do for you?”

“But, George, can you be sure that you’ll be able to marry in two years?”

He put his chin forward.

“You needn’t worry about that,” said he.  “You needn’t think because I’ve failed in an exam.  I don’t know what I’m about.  You leave all that to me.  In two years I shall be able enough to keep a wife—­and well!  Now, shall we arrange to get married in two years’ time?”

“It might be a fearful drag for you,” she said.  “Because, you know, I don’t really earn very much.”

“That’s not the point.  I don’t care what you earn.  I shan’t want you to earn anything—­so far as that goes.  Any earning that’s wanted I shall be prepared to do.  I’ll put it like this:  Supposing I’m in a position to keep you, shall we arrange to get married in two years’ time?” He found a fierce pleasure in reiterating the phrase.  “So long as that’s understood, I don’t mind the rest.  If we have to depend on Agg, or meet in the streets—­never mind.  It’ll be an infernal nuisance, but I expect I can stand it as well as you can.  Moreover, I quite see your difficulty—­quite.  And let’s hope the old gentleman will begin to have a little sense.”

“Oh, George!  If he only would!”

He did not like her habit of “Oh, George!  Oh!  George!”

“Well?” He waited, ignoring her pious aspiration.