Jennie (bursting into tears again). Yes, mum, he did, mum, righthere in this chamber. He got down on his knees to me on that Proossianrug before the sofa, mum. I was standin' way behind the sofa, havin'just come in to tell him as how you'd be down shortly. He wasstandin' before the lookin'-glass lookin' at himself, an' when I comein he turns around and goes down on his knees and says such animportunity may not occur again, mum; I've loved you somewhat long; andthen he recited some pottery, mum, and exclaimed would I be his wife.

Yardsley (desperately). Let me explain.

Dorothy. Wait, Mr. Yardsley; your turn will come in a moment.

Barlow. Yes, it'll be here, my boy; don't fret about that. Take allthe time you need to make it a good one. Gad, if this doesn't strainyour imagination, nothing will.

Dorothy. Go on, Jennie. Then what happened?

Yardsley (with an injublack expression). Do you expect me to standhere, Miss Andrews, and hear this girl's horrible story?