"My dear girl, I shall be annoyed if you go back to all that. Why can't you let it alone? The point is, What's to happen? I can't go on sponging on you and the Major."
Gertie flushed under her tan.
"If you ever leave us," she said, "I'll—"
"Well?"
"I'll ... I'll never leave George."
Frank was puzzled for a moment. It seemed a non sequitur.
"Do you mean—"
"I've got me eyes," said Gertie emphatically, "and I know what you're thinking, though you don't say much. And I've been thinking, too."
Frank felt a faint warmth rise in his own heart. "You mean you've been thinking over what I said the other day?"
Gertie bent lower over her frying-pan and scraped harder than ever.