She laughed.
"Really, my dear Roddy, you've been very long about it—coming out with it, I mean. Didn't you know and didn't I know that that's what you came for to-day?"
"Well then, may I?"
She paused and watched his anxiety. Between both of them there hung, now, the recollection of so many things—conversations and deeds and thoughts known to both of them, so many, many things that no others in all the world could know. She waited for his eyes, caught them and held them.
"Are you in love with her?"
"Yes—that is—she's splendid——"
"You haven't known her very long and you're a little impulsive, ain't you, Roddy, about these things?"
"No—I don't know her now. But we've seen a lot of one another these last months—a fearful lot. She's—oh! hang it! I never can say things—but she's a brick."
"Do you think she'll accept you?"
"How can any feller tell? I think she likes me—she's odd——"