The bright head shook.
"Happy?" he asked again, as gently.
She swung around and clung to him then.
"I'm so happy!" she whispered. "Do you suppose that anyone will ever be as happy again?"
There was ineffable content in her question. Whimsically her own phrase rose to his lips.
"Maybe," he said, "maybe sometime—in books!"
She lifted her face then. He had the dusky glory of her eyes.
"Maybe," she echoed, her voice tremulous,—"sometime. But this time in real life, too."