"A headache? My mother used to have headaches, and, my word! when she had them didn't she use to make it warm for us. I used to say----"
He stopped, and laughed.
"What did you use to say?"
"I used to say--again no offence intended--that I'd never marry a woman who had headaches."
"I'm not subject to headaches--don't suppose it; I scarcely ever have them; in fact, I don't ever remember having had one before; only--I've been worried."
"Have you? that's bad. Don't do it; be like me--don't let yourself be worried by anything." He took out his cigar and surveyed the ash. "I read somewhere the other day that it's worry makes people grow old before their time; I don't believe much I read, but I do believe that. No matter what goes wrong, don't worry, it will come right; that's my theory of life."
"It's very easy to talk, it's harder to do. You don't seem very pleased to see me now that you have come."
"Don't I? I am; I'm as pleased as Punch."
"You don't show it."
"How do you expect me to show it? By taking you in my arms and kissing you out here in broad daylight, with you don't know what eyes enjoying the fun? If you'll come over the stile into the wood you shall have all the kissing you want--before lunch."