Did what?
Jennie. Axed me to marry him, mum.
Dorothy. Mr. Yardsley--asked--you--to--to marry him? [Barlow
whistles.
Jennie (bursting into tears again). Yes, mum, he did, mum, right
here in this room. He got down on his knees to me on that Proossian
rug before the sofa, mum. I was standin' behind the sofa, havin'
just come in to tell him as how you'd be down shortly. He was
standin' before the lookin'-glass lookin' at himself, an' when I come
in he turns around and goes down on his knees and says such an
importunity may not occur again, mum; I've loved you very long; and
then he recited some pottery, mum, and said 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 all
the time you need to make it a good one. Gad, if this doesn't strain
your imagination, nothing will.
Dorothy. Go on, Jennie. Then what happened?
Yardsley (with an injured expression). Do you expect me to stand
here, Miss Andrews, and hear this girl's horrible story?
Barlow.
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