"It has seemed long to you?" he asked.
"Yes."
She turned her face slowly and looked at him.
"Has it seemed long to you?" she said.
"Yes," he replied, "long and dreary."
She swayed a little toward him with a sort of unconscious movement; her eyes were fixed upon his face with a wistful questioning; he had seen her look at her children so.
"Was it very hot?" she said. "Were you tired? Why did you not go away?"
"I did not want to go away," he answered.
"But you ought to have gone away," she said. "You were not used to the heat, and—Let the light fall on your face so that I can see it!"
He came a little nearer to her, and as she looked at him the wistfulness in her eyes changed to something else.