"No—no, indeed."
"Dear, you're not telling me——"
"It's nothing. Just a—a notion. There won't be so much of it next time. And still less the next time. And soon I'll be quite accustomed."
"Yes, I'm sure there's not the least danger," said he, wholly misunderstanding.
XXI
One afternoon she was reading in the hammock on the balcony before the upper sitting-room windows—the sitting room she shared with Helen and Winchie. She heard some one in the room, glanced up—Richard was before her. "Glad to find you alone," said he. "Do you realize it's several weeks since we've exchanged so much as a single word in private?"
"Something wrong at the shop?"
"No. I came especially to talk with you. How'd you like to go away for a week or so—to the sea or the mountains? We might take that trip through the Great Lakes."
"I'll see."
"You've been working very hard down at the shop. And by the way, you've caused an amazing improvement in Basil's work. He doesn't make those stupid mistakes any more. He used to make them every day. Yes—you've worked hard—and well."