"We will, though. A jolly one."
Silent again. She was smiling, dreaming. And silent he. He was thinking, thinking. A striking clock disturbed her. "Eleven! Oh, would you believe it! If we don't hurry, we'll have to tell them—to explain."
"We'll hurry," he said; and he added: "We must keep our secret, Essie."
She was out of his arms in her surprise at the hour. Something in his voice made her look at him quickly. "There, you're quiet now—like you are sometimes," she said.
He told her "I'm thinking—of you."
At that she suddenly was in his arms again, her hands about his neck. "There's one thing," she whispered and drew down his face. "Oh, there's one thing!"
He asked her "What?"
"Jus' tell me how you love me. You've not said it."
Not to deceive her! "As if I need, Essie?"
"But I want you to. Jus' say it so I can remember it."