She went out and called "Marty, Marty," and stood on the threshold of his dressing room, smiling a welcome. She was glad, beyond words glad, and surprised. There had seemed to be no chance of seeing him that morning.
Martin came along the passage with his characteristic light tread and drew up short. He looked anxious.
"You wanted me?" he said.
And Joan held out her hand. "I did and do, Marty. But how did you guess?"
"I didn't guess; I knew." And he held her hand nervously.
She looked younger and sweeter than ever in her blue silk dressing gown and shorter in her heelless slippers. What a kid she was, after all, he thought.
"How amazing!" she said. "I wonder how?"
He shook his head. "I dunno—just as I did the first time, when I tore through the woods and found you on the hill."
"Isn't that wonderful! Do you suppose I shall always be able to get you when I want you very much?"
"Yes, always."