"You!" She shuddered and clasped him tightly. "Geoffrey, promise me at once that you will not go near him," she begged. "Promise me!"
"On one condition."
"What is it?"
"That you will give up troubling about this nonsense."
"I will try," she promised.
"That's right. Now put on your hat, and come for a run on the cliff. I can't have you looking so pale."
He walked to the door with her and opened it, kissing her forehead as she passed through. She looked up at him fondly, and the quiet pleasure which glowed for a moment in her cheeks and shone in her eyes made her look once more like a girl of twenty. A woman's greatest happiness had been hers. In middle age her husband was still her lover.
"Forgive me for being silly," she whispered. "I can't help it. Our life has been so happy that I cannot bear to think of a cloud of any sort coming over it, even for a very short while."
"The only cloud we have to fear is that big fellow yonder over Gorton point," he laughed.
"Better bring your mackintosh down. I shall not shoot to-day until I have seen some color in your cheeks."