“Have you got it written down?”
“No, oh no—I—the fact is I don’t seem to remember what I preached about. How strange! But no matter if you were pleased at the time. I would not care to submit my theology to your tests, my dear.”
They were by this time standing together in the little study.
Moved by a sudden tenderness Vashti laid her face against his sleeve.
“I think,” she said, “you are better than anyone.”
A great joy illumined his face, he put his arms about her, for a moment his old self reasserted itself.
“My dear,” he said, “are you well? Why, Vashti, how thin you have grown.”
She looked up at him with great hollow grey eyes.
“Thin!” she said, and laughed discordantly; “what should the preacher’s wife have to make her thin?”
“You are well and happy?” he asked.