"You said it was on the table. Of course I don't want it—I wouldn't have it."
"You just wanted to see where it was."
"I don't care anything about it, sir. I want you to understand that as you go along."
"All right, but the can of tobacco, I remember now, is in the closet on the shelf."
William went away, and the young man knew that in the morning his tobacco can would be empty. Florence played the air of a slow, old love song, and between the notes fell the soft words, her own and Howard's; they looked into each other's eyes, eyes so familiar to both, eyes they could no more remember first seeing than we can remember the first sky, the first star—love as old as recollection and as young as the moment.
There is one thing we can always say, and Bradley said it: "I shall miss you when you are gone."
"I'm not gone yet," Agnes replied.
"I hope you are not getting tired of us."
"Tired?" She raised her eyes and he looked into them, into the depth of their blue mystery. "No, I am having lots of fun."
"Fun! Is that all?"