“I'm sorry.”
“It's all right now—it's all right. Gee I but we've traveled some in a week, haven't we?”
“I've known you more than a week,” she protested gayly.
“Sure—I've known you since I was born.”
They walked through the stately rows of elms on the Mall in joyous silence. Crowds of children and nurses, lovers and loungers, filled the seats and thronged the broad promenade.
Scarcely a word was spoken until they reached the rustic house nestling among the trees on the hill.
“Just a week by the calendar,” she murmured. “And I've lived a lifetime.”
“It's all right then—little girl? You'll marry me right away? When—tonight?”
“Hardly!”
“Tomorrow, then?”