"Thank you, Montague; I'll not pretend that I don't understand—nor that I——" she broke off, and looked by him and out to the distant horizon. "It is no use for us to discuss the impossible," she said softly.
"It is going to be the probable," he declared.
"Then wait until it is the probable."
"And then it is going to be the fact."
She shook her head—but an adorable smile came into her soft blue eyes.
"You seem very sure, my friend," she whispered.
"I am very sure, dear," he replied. "Very sure, indeed."
"You must not call me dear," she reminded him.
"Dearest, then," he amended.