Nona laughed, having by this time entirely forgotten that she had ever considered her companion less interesting and less good looking than she did at present. For, of course, she had come to the frequent feminine conclusion that she infinitely preferred a man to be clever and well bred in his appearance than merely conventionally handsome.
“Don’t stop walking, please, Philip,” she returned, not answering his foolish speech. “We have only a little while together. I promised Gene we would not be long. Surely you haven’t anything uncomfortable to tell me tonight.”
Philip did not walk on, however, so that Nona stood still, but turned her eyes up toward the sky. She had the impression one so often has that assuredly she was seeing more stars tonight than ever before.
“Would you mind looking at me for a moment, please, Nona?” Philip Dawson suggested, and Nona realized that his voice was not entirety steady, in spite of its humorous inflection.
“I hope you may not think that what I mean to tell you is uncomfortable. You see, to me it is as big and as vastly important as the sky over our heads. And this is not so absurd as it sounds. I love you, Nona, and I am going to start to the United States tomorrow. I have some information which the editor of my paper thinks I had best not try to write over here, but must bring to him in person.”
“But you will be coming back,” Nona answered, with the feminine impulse of putting off facing a situation.
“Only if you say you care for me and wish me to come, Nona. As far as my work goes, I have no idea where I may be sent after my return to the United States. But I shall try to come back to France.”
“You don’t mean you expect me to say just how I feel toward you tonight, Philip, when you have never suggested you were in love with me before,” Nona returned almost indignantly.
It struck her that Philip Dawson would not be like a good many other men. If she told him she did not love him tonight, he would not offer his love to her again. The idea made her indignant, and yet if she were never to see him after this—yet how could she know her own desire?
“I don’t think you are fair, Philip,” Nona answered.