The gray-green wood had seemed to Eve like another world, an enchanted land. Now she was forced back to real life again. “Oh, if he would only say nothing—just go on without speaking; it’s all I ask,” she thought.
“I shall go down there in ten days or so,” Paul went on. “Ferdie will be up then—in all probability well. I shall take him to Charleston, and from there we shall sail.”
“Sail?”
“To Norway.”
“Norway?”
“Didn’t I tell you?—I have made up my mind that a long voyage in a sailing vessel will be the best thing for him just now.”
“And you go too?”
“Of course.”
“Four or five weeks, perhaps?”
“Four or five months; as it grows colder, we can come down to the Mediterranean.”