She laughed—a joyous, happy laugh.
"Why, Dick, I think I have been always willing," she said, and went to him. "It is you—who—have—not—known."
The last words were whispered and broken.
* * * * * * * * *
"You are frightfully hard on one's coiffure, dear," she said, presently, putting him aside, and stepping back. "Did you disarrange Miss Stirling's so completely?"
He surveyed her critically.
"Rather more so, I think," he answered.
She made a little grimace.
"You wretch!" she exclaimed. "You need not have confessed it!"
"But you wanted the truth," with a sly smile.