For a moment young Browne waited, a dull red growing in his temples.
"Don't you intend to present me to Lady Deppingham ?" he demanded bluntly, without taking his eyes from Deppy's face.
"Oh--er--is that necess--" "Lady Deppingham," interrupted Browne, turning abruptly from the man in the chair and addressing the lady in azure blue who sat on the balustrade, "I am Robert Browne, the man you are expected to marry.
Please don't be alarmed.

You won't have to marry me.

Our grandfathers did not observe much ceremony in mating us, so I don't see why we should stand upon it in trying to convince them of their error.

We are here for the same purpose, I suspect.

We can't be married to each other.