"David!" she exclaimed. Her tone at once expressed delight at seeing him, and was an apology for remaining languidly seated. And she looked him over in a critical, maternal way.
"If you hadn't sent in your name," she said, "I should never have known you. You stand taller and broader, David. You filled the door-way. But you're not really much bigger, now that I look at you. It's your character that has grown.... I'm so proud of you."
David was very pale. It may have been from his long journey. But he at least did not know, because he said that he didn't when she asked him.
"And now," she said, "you must tell me all that you haven't written."
"Not quite yet," said David. "There is first a little matter of business...."
"Oh—" she protested.
But David counted out his debt to her methodically, with the accrued interest.
"Put it in my work-bag," she said.
"Did you ever expect to see it again?"
"Yes, David."