"But what really matters is that you've come back," she said.
"Yes, I suppose that is what really matters," replied Elizabeth, her calm eyes meeting Joan's for an instant.
"Oh, Elizabeth, it's been too awful without you, dull and awful!"
"I know," she answered quietly.
"And suppose I'd failed you, Elizabeth, suppose I'd failed in the examination," Joan's voice trembled. "Suppose I had had to tell you that!"
"I should still have been coming back."
"Yes, I know, and that's all that really matters; only it's better as it is, isn't it?"
"You would never fail me, Joan. I think it's not in you to fail, somehow; in any case I don't think you'll fail me." She hesitated—then, "I don't feel that we ought to fail each other, you and I."
She took off her hat and coat and drew off her gloves with her back turned; when she came back to the table her hands were behind her. She sat down quickly and folded them in her lap. In the excitement of the good news and the reunion, Joan had forgotten to ask to see her hands.
"Where's Milly?" said Elizabeth.