"Yes, I guess I'm a little bit homesick, for the beach and the sea."
"Do you remember when we were crossing I asked you to let me take you to my home in Scotland when the homesickness came?" asked Stewart. "You might come to us when the Captain is re-climbing Mont Blanc."
He paused, waiting for an answer, but Cary was silent.
"Wouldn't you come?"
She threw the last bit of the torn leaf away and came toward him and stopped, her hands on the back of a chair, a smile creeping into her eyes.
"I might—if I was asked," she said demurely.
He laughed like a boy.
"Mother'll see to that."
"She'll have to," said Cary, tossing her head.
"But you'd still be homesick?"