"It's the last place I should think of, child. I shall go only as far as the other end of Yorkshire, where I shall be within hail if you really want me. You'll write every day?"
She lowered her eyes shamefacedly.
"I write a poor letter, Griff. They'd only shame you."
Again he laughed, a frank, untroubled laugh.
"We shall see about that, wife. Every day you will write to me, and every day I'll write to you. God! how long those months will be!"
Mrs. Lomax decided at this juncture that they had had quite enough time together, and she entered abruptly.
"Off with you to bed, Kate," she said. "Griff is sadly dependent on the look of a woman's face, and if you spoil yours by late hours, I won't be answerable for the consequences."
"But I will!" cried Lomax, gaily.
"You have arranged it all?" asked the mother, when they were left alone.