Erna averted her glance. The old thoughts passed in quick review: Landsmann’s—Mr. Nielsen’s advice—scraps of the past—home. She could live with him a little while and then marry him if all went well. That seemed best for her.
“Wait’ll to-morrow!” he interrupted her. “You’re kind o’ up in the air now. You’ll be surer to-morrow.”
She nodded absent-mindedly.
“You’ll let me know to-morrow?”
“Yes.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“All right! Forget it! We’ll get it all settled to-morrow. An’ if you’d still want to have the minister—”
She shook her head negatively. Jimmy appeared just as well satisfied. He did not understand, but what was the difference, and what the use of worrying? “You love me, don’tcher?”
Again, she nodded absent-mindedly. He pushed her with rough good nature. Presently, he got up, returned to the mirror and again busied himself with his tie. Erna likewise continued dressing. She had reached a decision. And she was cheerful once more. But she would wait until to-morrow. It might be better.