“She'll wake up by and by,” I said. “And then—what?”
“I don't know.”
“Neither do I—now. But we shall have to know pretty soon.”
“I suppose we shall, but I can't—I can't seem to think of anything that's ahead of us. All I can think is that my Little Frank—my Ardelia's Little Frank—is here, here with us, at last.”
“And TO last, so far as I can see. Hephzy, for heaven's sake, do try to be sensible. Do you realize what this means? As soon as she is well enough to understand what has happened she will want to know what 'proposition' we have to make. And when we tell her we have none to make, she'll probably collapse again. And then—and then—what shall we do?”
“I don't know, Hosy. I declare I don't know.”
I strode into my own room and slammed the door.
“Damn!” said I, with enthusiasm.
“What?” queried Hephzy, from the sitting-room. “What did you say, Hosy?”
I did not tell her.