As always, she had only to seem merry to drive away his sober mood, and now the light-hearted answer brought its quick smile in return.
“But why did you not tell me?” he demanded.
“Thou art dull, Big One,” she answered, “to ask me such questions. Surely thou must have guessed.”
“I am not quick with riddles,” he said.
Manlike he had but one way. He must know it all and she must tell. The intuition that would have conjured up the whole scene for her was utterly lacking in him, and as she watched him, she saw the shadow settle on his brow that warned her of his shifting mood.
“For one,” she said quickly, “how could I tell when you were not here, and thought so little of me you had not even told me where you were?”
He did not understand, and she laughed at his puzzled look. Then he saw.
“So long ago,” he said, “before I came home?”
“Is it so very long?” she asked. “I do not remember. It seemed but yesterday I saw you here. How many years is it, man to whom it has been so long?”
He gazed at her bewildered. He was no match for her at such fencing of wits. He flung himself down beside her and said shortly: