"Joan," he murmured ingratiatingly as he came up, "I haven't been allowed a single word with you——"
Presently I found myself having the "word" alone with him at the bottom of the garden, away from the others in a sheltered nook screened by a hedge of sweetpeas.
Harry always was an adept at these arrangements. Strange, to think that he should be making them again for me after all these months!
He began in a voice distinctly sentimental, "It's a long time, isn't it, since ... last summer? Look here, there's a seat. We'll sit down."
"Not for long," said I, matter-of-fact. "I have to get back soon, to Camp."
"Camp," returned Harry, as he sat down beside me on the garden-bench. "Sounds odd to hear all you girls talking about 'Camp' like a lot of Tommies."
"We're rather proud of being like them."
"Of course. But, I say, who are you with all day? What do you have to do?"
I answered his questions as concisely as I could. I, who used to prize every moment with him! felt I wanted to join the others!
He nodded; asked "Don't you mind having to rough it?"