I measure your love with my own for you. That's fair
enough, and so I think--I think I know how much you love me.
[George has been leaning tenderly over her as she sits on the
bench. He now comes and sits beside her, taking one of her
hands in both his own.
George. I want your promise for one thing--one thing that will
make me the happiest, proudest man in the world.
Char. What more can I promise you? I've given you myself. What more--
George (impulsively leaning closer to her). Marry me to-night!
Char. To-night! Why, I--I--
George. Yes, to-night! We may go for a long campaign South. I may
not come again for months. Let me be sure you are my own before I go.
I'll get the chaplain here in half an hour.
Char. To-night! But, George, I--I--of course, I'll marry you if
you think best, but--
George (delighted). But what? Nothing in all the world can matter
if you marry me to-night.
Char. But I haven't any dress.
George (laughing). What does that matter? Why not the one you
have on now? I never saw you look more lovely.
Char. Oh, I have one other: a nicer one than this (happily).
Well, this will do if it pleases you.
[He gently puts his arm around her.
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