"You will make me conceited, if you don't take care, old lady!" he protested. "And surely I've got enough cause for conceit already, with the most beautiful woman in the world sitting across from me, telling me she loves me. Don't blame me if I lose my head a little!"
The ardor in his tone brought the color into her cheeks.
"You must not look at me like that!" she reproved. "People will think we are on our moon of—our honeymoon," she corrected, hastily.
"Instead of having been married four years! I wonder how John and Sallie are getting along? Aren't you just crazy to see the kids!"
She choked over her soup, but managed to nod mutely. Then, as Hans removed the plates and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, he added in a lower tone, "You must allow me the children. I find I can't be happy without them!"
"Very well," she agreed, the dimple sparkling. "You have been so kind that it is impossible for me to refuse you anything!"
"There is one thing I can't understand. Your English astonishes me. Where did you learn to speak it so perfectly?"
"Ah, that is a long story! Perhaps I shall one day tell it to you—if we ever meet again."
"We must! I demand that as my reward!"
She held up a warning finger as steps sounded along the passage; but it was only the landlady bringing the wine. That good woman was exuberant—a trifle too exuberant, as Stewart's companion told her with a quick glance.