As she sat thinking, her arms resting limply in her lap, Keble noted with a pang the absence of her old elasticity. She looked older, and tired. He had an impulse to get out of the boat and take her in his arms. He reflected that a man like Dare, in his place, would have scouted her precautions. But there was the baby to think of, and,—cautious men were cautious.
“I’m hesitating,” Louise finally said, “only because I’m timid about deciding for you. But I don’t mind saying that if you accepted and were successful the monkey and his grandfathers and I would be highly gratified.”
Tears came to Keble’s eyes,—an indiscretion which he lost no time in correcting. “Right-oh! . . . Tell Dare how glad we are to know he’s on the mend, and find out if there’s anything he’d especially like. The people in Vancouver wrote that his ticket to Japan will be valid for a reservation on any later boat . . . Good-bye dear. Miriam and I will call again after dinner.”
“Bring a volume of Swinburne if you think of it. We’ve been trying to recall some lines.”
He promised, and she laughed to see him make a methodical note of it.
“Good luck!” she called out, as he started the engine.
“Thanks, old girl. Awfully decent of you to think I may have a chance.”
“It’s in your blood!”
“It’s a dyed-in-the-wool Liberal constituency,” he deprecated. “And what isn’t Liberal leans towards the Progressive.”
“I’d despise a victory I hadn’t had to fight for!”