"I wonder…." breathed Mary.
"Oh, but it is. You shouldn't wonder. It's the sweetest story ever told—the greatest adventure ever lived—"
But still old dreams echoed in her memory, though growing fainter with every breath she drew.
"It's all right for the man," she murmured. "If he gets tired of hearing the story, he's got other thoughts to occupy his mind. He's got his work—his career. But what's the woman going to do?"
Instinct told him how to answer her.
"I love you," he whispered.
She looked at him. Somewhere over them a robin began to sing as though its breast would burst. The scent of the honeysuckle grew intoxicating.
"Your heart is beating faster," he whispered again. "'Tck-tck-tck' it's saying. 'There's going to be a wedding next month'—'Tck-tck-tck' it's saying. 'Lieutenant Cabot is now about to kiss his future bride—"
Mary's head bent low and just as Wally was lifting it, his hand gently cupped beneath her chin, he caught sight of Helen running toward them.
"Oh, Mary!" she called.