"Nothing worth the telling. How could anything interesting happen after you had gone? But I've been doing some fine thinking."
"Of what?"
"Of you!—always you! I've had to tear up the first page of many of my despatches."
"Why?"
"Because I would address them to Sylvia instead of to the Gazette."
"John, I didn't know that you had imagination."
"It isn't imagination; I don't need imagination when I'm near you or thinking of you, which is all the time."
"And you are going to marry a Western girl, after all?" irrelevantly.
"I wouldn't marry any other kind, and there is only one of them that I would marry."
They did not speak again for a half-minute, but what they said was relevant.