"I know you're going to like him horribly."
"I know your poor little sore bones have affected your brain!" I told her. "Haven't I just had one 'doing' over liking some one too horribly? Yet, in the middle of that, you say——"
"It isn't the middle," Elizabeth returned very quickly, "it is coming to the end."
"What!"
"It is the beginning of the end. You won't go on thinking of Harry to the end of your days."
"Much you know about it, child!" I said, and as I spoke the wide sun-lighted green lands faded from before me, and I saw Harry's polished black head above the pink lights of a restaurant table—Harry's handsome, straying eyes. "The thought never leaves me, Elizabeth."
"Hasn't it left you once today?"
Here—well, it was the greatest surprise to me, but I did have to straighten my mouth out of a smile. Today? The thought of Harry had certainly been somewhat overlaid by—cow-house. But I said:
"It's there always, worse luck, at the back of my mind."
"Making more room in front," said my impish chum. "You're better about him already."