She called: “Hattie! Have you put up my lunch?”
“All ready, Miss Eris, honey!”
There was a silence, Eris gazing absently at the outrageous mantel-clock, Annan’s eyes on her face.
She drew a long, even breath: “Time—and its hours—like a flight of bullets.... When can you come again?”
“Any day—any hour you can give me——”
“No.... You will begin work again, won’t you?” She turned toward him.
“I can’t, yet.”
“Why?”
“I suppose it’s because I’m so preoccupied with you.”
“But—that isn’t possible!” She seemed so frankly perplexed and disturbed that he said: