"Clothes and thinks," she said. "A—trousseau, don't you see? I've been so busy making clothes for other people that I've got just about nothing myself. And I'd like ... But I don't really care, Roddy. I'll go with you to-morrow, 'as is,' if you want me to."
"No," he said. "We'll do it the other way."
And then he took her back to the gray brick entrance and, just out of range of the elevator man, kissed her good night.
"But will you telephone to me as soon as you wake up in the morning, so that I'll know it's true?"
She nodded. Then her eyes went wide and she clung to him.
"Is it true, Roddy? Is it possible for a thing to come back like that? Are we really the old Rodney and Rose, planning our honeymoon again? It wasn't quite three years ago. Three years next month. Will it be like that?"
"Not like that, perhaps," he said, "exactly. It will be better by all we've learned and suffered since."