“Then I'd be safer up there than down here,” said Mary, calmly.
“But I mean you couldn't hear the 'phone.”
“That is a consummation devoutly to be wished.”
“Now don't go off up there,” expostulated John. “You always hear it and I sort of depend on you to get me awake.”
“Exactly. But it's a good thing for a man to depend on himself once in awhile. I was awake so often last night that I'm too tired and sleepy to argue. But I'm going. Good night.”
“Thunder!”
“It doesn't ring every night,” said Mary, comfortingly from the landing. “Let us retire in the fond belief that curfew will not ring tonight.”
When she retired she fell at once into deep sleep. For two hours she slept sweetly on. Then she was instantly aroused. The figure of a man stood by her side. In the moonlight she saw him plainly, clad in black. Her heart was coming up into her throat when a voice said,
“Mary, I have to go two miles into the country.”
“Why didn't you call me, John, instead of standing there and scaring me to death?”