"God forbid!" she broke in.
I laughed.
"It will be delightful having mother."
"Do you find the days long?"
"When it's wet."
"Do you still find vent for your happiness in the pages of a manuscript book?"
I nodded.
She looked at me with incredulous eyes.
"You still find your year—what was it you called it—wonderful?"
"I have Dimbie."