"Away?"
"Yes; down at Cailsham—staying with my mother."
"Oh, very nice, I should think. I'm glad you're moving about a bit. I was rather afraid, you know, that you'd hang about in town all through the summer, and that 'ud be bound to knock you up."
She handed him his cup of tea. "Why were you afraid?" she asked.
"Why? Do you think I'd be glad if you were knocked up?"
He looked up at her, with raised eyebrows, not understanding.
"I don't suppose you'd be sorry, would you?"
She said it gently—no strain of bitterness. The emotion which had swept her at first was passed now. All her mind concentrated to the one end.
"Of course I should," he replied. "Of course I should be sorry. Do you paint me in your mind the little boy dropped in and out of a love affair?"
"Oh no."