His hand closed suddenly on her arm.
“Look here, old girl!” he said. “I’m—you’ll have to make allowances, you know. It’s been a bit hard. I dare say it doesn’t seem much of a job to you, but after all, you know, they’re my own people, and it’s been a bit hard.”
Emily stopped short in the street.
“Denis!” she cried. “What do you mean?”
“I went to see mother, but they were all out. I left a note. I think I made it pretty clear.”
“Oh, Denis! Denis! You mean you chose me?”
“Don’t do that!” he said in alarm, pulling out a great handkerchief and hastily dabbing at Emily’s eyes. “You are a silly kid, and no mistake! Of course it’s you, always. I thought you knew that well enough.”
“I can’t possibly stop crying,” said Emily. “You’d better get a taxi.”
He did so. Once they were in the cab, Denis Lanier took his wife in his arms and kissed her in his own earnest and resolute fashion.
“But how could you come, Denis?”