"Of course I am; we are much too happy to talk anything else. By-the-way, I ought to beg your pardon for thinking you cared about Garratt."
"I think you ought," she laughed.
"Though I don't know whether I'm any better than he is," he added, modestly. "I say, you do care for me, don't you? You know you haven't said it yet."
"I do care for you," she said.
"When did you begin?"
"I don't know; I don't know a bit, Tom dear, but what I have felt is that—"
"Yes, go on."
"—That it was the greatest happiness in the world to be with you. Why, I have simply laughed for joy at the sound of your step, and when you are away I think of you all the time and every minute, and I don't even care for the theatre now, or for being an actress."
"Good! good!" he cried, triumphantly. "Go on."
"And I am so happy now," she continued—"so stifled and overcome with happiness that I feel as if I should die of it."