"Neither of us has the faintest idea what truth is"—I began, preparing another disquisition. She cut me short: "No, Ted, we haven't. We begin life with just one certain fact and no more."
"What is that certain fact?" I asked.
"Can you ask, Ted? We love each other—that's all we know."
"It's enough," I said, kissing her mouth. She smiled at me, her face close.
"We'll begin with that, Ted darling."
Chapter Eleven
WE SEEK AND OBTAIN CONSENT
During that winter and early spring the business, under Knowlton's shrewd management, was making good progress. It was clear that, although it would take a much greater investment of capital to turn the factory into a producer of fortunes, nevertheless the plant was now on the way to becoming a steady income-maker for its owners. Knowlton thought it might be possible to get local capital and expand; he exchanged several letters and cables with my father in London on the subject. One day authorization came to him to go ahead.
"That will be one of your jobs, Ted," he remarked to me one evening in my room, as he tossed over my father's cable for me to read.