She quoted with irreverent glee: "'And they that were first shall be last.'"
"You can laugh?"
"Thank God I can, at last."
"Supposing I did go—right now?"
She shrugged her shoulders slightly and the mauve shoulder straps again arrested him. She did not speak; but without her answer, whatever it would have been, he knew that he could not leave her; that he must always come back at last, longing for her arms.
Ten o'clock struck, and she looked up thoughtfully at the wedding-gift timepiece.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "Good night."
A dark rush of colour flooded his face. "You really mean—"
She nodded.
"Then," he almost whispered, "exactly how do we stand?"