"Not if they bring him back to me."
"But you let him go away."
"Oh, on his Wanderjahre. I dare say that's all over by now."
"Then you do think he may have—speeded up?"
"It wouldn't surprise me."
"Why wouldn't it?"
"Nothing would surprise me."
"But this particular thing?"
She shook with soft laughter. "Oh, George, some nice steady-going woman—like I used to be—ought to adopt you.... Why, you stupid, as if I wasn't willing him to speed up, as you call it, with every particle that's in me, if only I can manage to be somewhere at hand when he gets there!"
I gave her a quick look. "Do you mean that you're going to slip over to France after all?" I demanded.