It was not to speak these words that Harry Luttrell had risen, after wishing him good-bye the night before. So he waited.
Luttrell was still, his hand on the little donkey's neck.
"You'll remember me to our honorary member, won't you?"
"Yes."
"Don't forget."
"I won't."
Nor was it for this reminder, either. So Hillyard still waited, and at last the words came, jerkily.
"One thing you said yesterday.... I was very glad to hear it. That Stella was well—quite well. You meant that, didn't you? It's the truth?"
"Yes, it's the truth."
"Thank you ... I was a little afraid ... thank you!"