He put down his cup and took both her hands in his own. “How long?”
“Not long, not very long, not long enough....”
“Enough for what?” He broke up her hesitation. “For me to forget you? No, no, not in the fifty-two weeks of the whole world of time.”
“I did want to stay here,” she said, “and see all the funny things country people do now.” She was rather vague about those funny things. “Carols, mumming, visiting; go to church on Christmas morning, though how I should get past those dreadful goats, I don’t know; why are they always in the churchyard?”
“Teasy creatures they are! Followed parson into service one Sunday, indeed, ah! one of ’em did. Jumped up in his pulpit, too, so ’tis said. But when are you coming back?”
She told him it was a little uncertain, she was not sure, she could not say, it was a little uncertain.
“In a week, maybe?”
Yes, a week; but perhaps it would be longer, she could not say, it was uncertain.
“So. Well, all right then, I shall watch for you.”
“Yes, watch for me.”