"Don't!" Marie begged. "You're making me gulpy. For two pins I'd cry. You two—you've just been everything to me this year, after the children. You don't know how lonely you're making me feel."
"But soon Osborn—"
"Osborn's coming home next week."
"Oh, great!" Rokeby cried; and Mrs. Rokeby added: "I am glad. Now you won't be lonely any more."
"I don't know," Marie said quietly.
She took Julia's bare left hand from her muff and looked at the rings and stroked it.
"I love a new wedding ring," she said.
"Our train, darling," Rokeby reminded his wife.
"We must fly," said Julia, rising. "Our taxi's outside, with all the clothes I've had time to pack, upon it. Desmond had packed in anticipation, the wretch! And we've only got an hour—but we just had to come in and tell you before we went."
"I hope you and Osborn will have another honeymoon like ours is going to be," Rokeby cried as they hurried through the hall.