"The doctor says it will be another two weeks before my arm is out of the sling."
"Even so, the rest of you is well. There is n't much excuse for my bringing in your breakfasts, Monte."
"Do you mind doing it?"
"No."
"Who is to tie on this silk handkerchief?" He wore a black silk handkerchief over his bandages, which she always adjusted for him.
She met his eyes a moment, and smiled again.
"I'm going to Étois," she said. "I think I shall get a little villa there and stay all summer."
"Then," he declared, "I think I shall go to Étois myself."
"I 'm afraid you must n't."
"But the doctor says I must n't play golf for six months. What do you think I'm going to do with myself until then?"