“Feeling fine,” he said. “This is a half day at the office and I want to get on the job early. I’m dated up for a foursome this afternoon with George, Bruce and Carroll; so I won’t be home till after the game. You won’t mind?”
“Why, I’m delighted to have you go, Shep!”
“I always do the best I can, Connie,” he went on musingly. “I probably make a lot of mistakes. I don’t believe God intended me for heavy work; if he had he’d have made me bigger.”
“How foolish, Shep. You’re doing wonderfully. Isn’t everything going smoothly at the office?”
“Just fine! I haven’t a thing to complain of!”
“Is everything all right now?” she asked, encouraged to hope for some assurance of his faith in her.
“What isn’t all right will be—there’s always that!” he replied with a laugh.
He lingered beside the bed and took her hand, bent over and kissed her, let his cheek rest against hers in an old way of his.
“Good-bye,” he said from the door, and then with a smile—Shep’s familiar, wistful little smile—he left her.