"I was foolish then," he said softly, "but absence from you and silence has taught me wisdom. When I left you and you made no sign, sent no word of recall, left the dread quiet unbroken, I told myself that you cared nothing for me, and I tried desperately to fall in love with some other girl, but they were all 'flat, stale and unprofitable' compared to you. There was no light in their eyes, no roses on their cheeks, no pleasure in their presence, no rapture in their touch—and—Oh, hang it! you know I can't talk, but I love you, and as long as cooking stoves and marriage licenses are so cheap and ministers are so plenty what's the matter with having a wedding to-morrow?"
And I said—but never mind what I said.
