"Perfectly delightful," was the man's response.
Another silence. Then Prudence turned with an indescribable, confiding movement towards her husband. She slowly removed her glove, looking down at it as she did so. She gently and caressingly laid her bared hand in her husband's, which was lying listlessly on his knee. The masculine fingers closed quickly about the feminine ones.
But Lawrence did not yet turn his head. He knew that Prudence had moved imperceptibly nearer. Presently he heard a soft whisper, "Dearest."
He turned now, and his eyes met a warm glance that was even more thrilling than the word had been.
A fire sprang instantly to his eyes as he murmured:
"My darling! My darling wife!"
She responded to the eager pressure of his hand, the eager brilliance of his eyes. Then she said, with tender gaiety, "It isn't so stupid on the water-battery, after all, is it?"
"How can it be stupid where you are?"
"Oh, thank you! That's just what I intended you should say, Lawrence. It's so nice not to have you disappoint me."
Here the two smiled into each other's eyes; and then Prudence added, "You are never dull, you dear old fellow, only when you choose to be. That's why it's so very, very trying, you know."