“The reason you've already given is sufficient to convince me that he ought to go at once. What is the other one, pray?”
She lighted a cigarette from the match he held. “What would you say if I were to tell you that I object to his going away—at present?”
“I should ask the very obvious question.”
“Because I like him, I want him to like me, and I shall be very lonely without him,” she answered calmly.
“You are frank, to say the least,” said he, laughing.
“And serious. I don't want him to go away at present. Later on, yes; but not now. I shall need him, James.”
“You will be lonely, you say.”
“Certainly. You forget that I am young.”
“I see,” said he, a sudden pain in his heart. “Perhaps it would be more to the point if you were to say that I forget that I am old.”
She laughed. It was a soft, musical laugh that strangely stilled the tumult in his breast.