A Meeting With Him
She arrived at last - damn their questions; she had been forced to wait until the household
slept - and breathed a sigh of relief that he was still standing outside of Barstell's Tea-House.
She made her apologies and they entered, selecting their usual table and not bothering to shed
their sodden overcoats. They would not be long; every moment that they shared meant so much
greater a chance of being discovered.
Abruptly, "I intend to broach the subject with my family," he ventured.
She paled, her hands leaping to her mouth. "Oh, you mustn't..."
He shook his head, then stroking his elegant moustache, met her eyes earnestly. "Honestly is surely the only way. With enough cajoling, they can surely be brought 'round to admire the love that we have cultivated. And if they will take our side, can your family be long to follow?"
"But if your father and mother will not acquiesce, all this must end, for it will be known to all concerned."
"If that is the cost, we must bear it, and will find ways of meeting nonetheless. I can bear this secrecy and solitude no longer. I must attempt it; I must! I fear that otherwise, it is for lack of courage that we arrange these clandestine dalliances, lovely as they are. I should hardly consider myself fit for your company if I did not attempt it."