280
He nodded. He couldn’t trust his voice to answer.
“Then, here’s a word of advice. Don’t let her see that you’re too much in earnest.” She laughed, relieving the suspense. “Almost like the wedding-service, wasn’t it?”
As he left, the last sight he had of her she was still sitting curled up on the couch, in her pale-blue peignoir, with the sky behind her, playing with the silky ears of Twinkles snuggled asleep in her lap. She, too, was waiting. For whom? For what?
That night he wrote a letter to Hal; tore it up and rewrote it. Even then he hesitated. At last he decided to sleep over the wisdom of sending it.