“You want mine, Philip?” asked Helen, as she industriously “picked back” a few stitches.
“Yes, if I may be allowed to wear out two or three others while yours is in process of construction.”
“Wot rudeness! To think I should live to hear such! Well, just for that I’ll put all the knots inside!”
“They’ll make me think of you!”
“And I’ll put a note in it,—that’s often done.”
“A note of thanks. If the girls did that, it would save many a poor soldier a lot of trouble! He could just sign it and send it off.”
“How unsentimental and ungrateful you are! Why, the boys just love to get notes in their socks and sweaters and then they love to answer them. It’s no hardship, I can tell you! I’ve had the notes!”
“You can’t have had very many,—you’re too young.”
Helen gave him a laughing scowl at this fresh fling at her slow progress and then she threw down her knitting.
“Can’t do any more, now. I’ve come to the place to cast on, and I forget how many, and I left my paper of directions at home, and——”