“It has been a strenuous week for you, hasn’t it?” Again the tinge of something not quite pleasant in Miss Maggie’s voice.
“Yes, but it’s been worth it.”
“Of course!”
Mr. Smith turned deliberately and looked at Miss Maggie. There was a vague questioning in his eyes. Obtaining, apparently, however, no satisfactory answer from Miss Maggie’s placid countenance, he turned away and began speaking again.
“Well, anyway, I’ve accomplished what I set out to do.”
“You-you’ve already accomplished it?” faltered Miss Maggie. She was gazing at him now with startled, half-frightened eyes.
“Yes. Why, Miss Maggie, what’s the matter? What makes you look so—so queer?”
“Queer? Nonsense! Why, nothing—nothing at all,” laughed Miss Maggie nervously, but very gayly. “I may have been a little—surprised, for a moment; but I’m very glad—very.”
“Glad?”
“Why, yes, for—for you. Isn’t one always glad when—when a love affair is—is all settled?”