* * * * *
Not that all this was in my thought. Far from it. I went, brooding and restless, without impulse but to escape from myself. I drove over after luncheon, after telephoning my coming.
She came down immediately and at my first look I felt a guilty feeling, yet one of some compensating happiness.
“There’s a house party, but I got rid of them,” she said, giving me both her hands. “Do you know, Davy, you have waited a long, long time to come.”
“I have wanted to, many times.”
“Really, and honestly?” she said, looking me in the eyes.
“Of course.”
My heart smote me as I met her glance. One word from me had brought back the comrade of other days. From her hair to the stout walking boots, all artifice had been so evidently offered up on the altar of my criticism that I could not help saying:
“Now I remember an old friend.”
She laughed at this and her eyes sparkled, but there was a retort on her tongue.