“Yes, sweetheart—I’ll be soon through. I was writing to Larry’s widow, poor girl. There seemed so much to say.”
“I know, but you must stop.” She used the appeal she had already learned to use when he was bound to tax his fragile strength. “You’ll never get back there unless you rest more.”
“Oh, yes I will. And when I do get back—how I’m going to start some things in motion. It will be a terrible swift motion too. I’ve lost a sad amount of time.”
Freda laughed and he looked at her. It was a laugh of pure amusement, and so contagious that he joined her, jumping up from the letter to kiss her.
“No—you laughing rogue—not time lost in winning my bride. Mocker.”
Freda held him at arms length teasingly.
“I have you for a minute now, haven’t I?”
“You always have me. You don’t mind, darling, that they need me? You wouldn’t—not share it with me?”
“Of course I share it. And I know I have you—when you remember me.”
He buried his lips in her hair and then drew her to his knees.