“Darling!” she said with the breathless smile he knew so well. “I just couldn’t wait. I was so afraid you were annoyed with me——”
His kiss made her eager explanation incoherent; she nestled to him, dumb, happy in the physical reunion, wistful for the spiritual, seeking it in his face with questioning grey eyes.
“It mustn’t happen again,” he said. “You’re mine, Eris, and people have got to understand.”
“Darling! Of course I am. But I don’t quite see how people are going to understand——”
“We’ll talk about that this evening.”
“All right.... Darling, I must dress. Oh, Barry, I’m so glad—I’m always lonely without you, wherever I go!”
One long, deep embrace—her swift ardour leaving him trembling—and before he knew it her door had slammed behind her.
From within her bed-room: “Your letters have been so wonderful, Barry darling! They made work delightful.”... The excited clatter and rustle of a girl in a hurry came indistinctly through the closed door.... “It’s a peach of a part, Barry. There are real brains in it.... I wish I had Frank Donnell to tell me——”
“Can’t Creevy do that?”
“I don’t know.... He isn’t a drill-master.... Sometimes I’m afraid he doesn’t know.