“How is it?”
“Why, it’s a wonderful thing to have a house all of your own. I used to pretend this was a house all of my own.”
“Don’t you any longer?”
She was wondering how it would be about that, now that she had allowed him to enter. Of course, she might treat him merely as a guest here; but that was difficult, because the only thing she based her sense of ownership on was the fact that no one else knew anything about the place. She shook her head.
“It’s hard to pretend anything except when you’re alone,” she answered.
He sat up.
“Then you oughtn’t to have let me come here with you.”
She smiled.
“How could I help it? You just came.”
“I know it,” he admitted. “I’m always butting 178 in, and you ought to tell me so every now and then.”