When I arrived he was waiting in the Lion House, and I felt a relief to
see that Primrose Robinson had not accompanied him.
“Sit here,” he said. “I want to talk to you seriously, Tarver.”
Now, the great beasts in the Lion House always affect my nerves. I know
they cannot get out and all that sort of thing, but the unexpected so
often happens; accidents will occur; and besides, as I explained to
Robinson when asking him to step with me into the air, the spectacle
of lions and tigers at feeding time is anything but pleasing to the
possessor of a delicate appetite.
But Robinson said the spot would answer our purpose well. He was moody
and preoccupied; he showed no interest in anything. Then, when I had
grown weary of trying to make him talk, he suddenly began on a painful
subject.
“Primrose was bitterly disappointed not to come. She always counts the
days and hours between your visits. I won’t disguise the fact, Tarver;
she’s grown to be very fond of you.”
What could I say? While I was reflecting he proceeded:
“She’d make a grand wife. Her interests are at my heart too. It’s a
great opportunity. Why don’t you take your luck and thank your stars
for it?”