The last word fell like a drop of cold water on the hope that glowed at her heart. But she chose to ignore it.
"Well then?"
He raised one hand, and laid it lightly on her breast, feeling for hidden treasure. Then his fingers closed on the two rings; and he smiled.
"Since you seem to have forgiven the ill-tempered chap who gave you those, you might do worse than have 'em out, and wear them—by way of explanation!"
Her own hand went up to them, instinctively, and closed over his.
"I'll take them out now, at once, if you'll promise to put the wedding one on, yourself, with the proper words."
"What? Not the whole blessed service?"
At the note of dismay in his voice her laughter rang out, clear and natural; a silver sound, that pierced him with its poignant sweetness.
"Darling idiot! Of course not. I only meant the 'ring' words for luck. Though if I could have my own way, I'd like the whole thing over again, to make it feel more real. All that seems to have happened to a not very admirable girl I once knew, in another life."
"Does it indeed?" he asked, smiling upon her in great contentment. "I rather admired that girl myself! But believe me, Quita, it's all real enough to satisfy us both. 'There's no discharge in that war.' And you don't get a human man to go through the ordeal of that service except under severe stress of circumstance! If I couldn't recapture you any other way, I'd do it . . with alacrity. Not unless."