"When will that be, Noble?" And in spite of herself, Julia spoke in the tone of one who controls herself to ask in calmness: "Is my name on the list for the guillotine?"
"Well," he said, "it'll be as soon as I've made up my mind to go. I probably won't go before then; not till I've made up my mind to."
"But you might do that any day, mightn't you?"
Noble began to feel relieved; he seemed to have hit upon a way out. "Yes; and then I'd be gone," he said firmly. "But probably I wouldn't go at all unless I decided to." This seemed to save him from China, and he added recklessly: "I guess I wouldn't be missed much around this old town if I did go."
"Yes, you would," Julia said quickly. "Your family'd miss you—and so would everybody."
"Julia, you wouldn't——"
She laughed lightly. "Of course I should, and so would papa."
Noble released the gatepost and appeared to slant backward. "What?"
"Papa was talking about you this very morning at breakfast," she said; and she spoke the truth. "He said he dreamed about you last night."
"He did?"