“I’m glad,” he said.
As they turned and walked across the yard Marley looked at her nervously.
“Do you know,” he said, “that I couldn’t remember what color your eyes were?” He spoke with all the virtue there is in confession.
“What color are they?” she asked, suddenly closing her eyes.
“They’re blue,” Marley replied, saying the word ecstatically, as if it had a new, wonderful meaning for him.
“Connie says they’re green.”
“Connie?”
“Yes, don’t you know? She’s my younger sister.”
“Oh.” He did not know any of her family, and the baffling sense of unreality came over him again.
“You’ll know her,” said Lavinia, and added thoughtfully: “I hope she’ll like you. Then there’s Chad, my little brother.”