"David, isn't it wonderful!" she murmured.
David, as she spoke, awoke abruptly from a reverie.
"Wonderful!" he agreed as he looked up at her. Then he comprehended. "You mean all this, don't you?" he asked.
Bab nodded and, his eyes fixed on hers, David for a moment sat silent. The luncheon had been served, and Crabbe at a signal from him had left the room. In the brief interval that David sat gazing at her, Bab saw a change come over him. Again his eyes brightened, deepening with animation. Again she saw dawn in them the look of purpose she had seen there that morning. Pushing back his chair, he arose, and with a hand on the table to support him he came slowly toward her. Bab's eyes fell. Never before had she felt herself so alone with him—with anyone, for that matter. Had this been their wedding day, their first few moments together, she could not have felt more conscious. The color crowded into her face. She dared not look up now. Then as she sat there, her eyes lowered, she felt David's hand slip beneath her chin.
"Look up, Bab!" he whispered. She obeyed awkwardly. His eyes, she noticed, had grown very serious. "Listen, dear," said David. "All that I've shown you I showed you with a purpose. I wanted you to know that some day it all will be mine—you understand, don't you—ours, Bab, yours and mine! That's why I showed it to you!" Then she felt the hand that held her face up to his tighten. "Remember," he added, "it's yours—ours—Bab, no matter what happens! What's mine will always be yours. You understand?"
Bab was looking up at him with parted lips.
"Yes," she murmured wonderingly.
"Yours and mine! That's why I showed it to you, Bab!" And then, "I love you! I love you!" he whispered.