There was so much to say and so much she was afraid to say that she hardly knew with what to begin. "Weren't you," she ventured, timidly—"weren't you having a good time?"
His answer as he lay back with eyes closed again was another of his smiles, only dimmer now with a faint bitter-sweetness. She knew it was like asking a man if his pain is better when it is killing him. Nevertheless, the ground of common, practical things was the only one to keep to, so she went on: "But you won't like sleeping at the house every night—with no one in it. Don't you want to come here?"
He shook his head. "No, thanks. Mrs. Maggs will make my bed and give me breakfast. That's all I need. Get the rest of my meals in town."
"But you'll stay to dinner now, won't you?"
He lifted himself up in his chair at last, his face taking on its first look of life. "Thor be there?"
"Why, no. Thor's away—in the West. Didn't you know?"
He started nervously. "Away in the West? Not looking for me?"
She tried to smile. "Of course not. He went to attend the medical congress in Minneapolis. He's on his way home now."
"When do you expect him?"
"Oh, not at once. I don't know when. He's taking his time."