G. G. Manton
With a little cry she nestled close to him.
"But, petite, you love your home so——"
"My home is wherever you are, monsieur."
"You did not think so once, chérie."
"Ah! but then you were 'shall' and 'must'"—pouting—"and now—now you are different."
He smiled tenderly. He thought he understood now.
"We will live part of the year here and part in London. There, my little one—will that do?"
"Ah, yes, perfectly!"
"Come now for a little walk," he said, for he had something in his mind.