She dosed him with great content, he, both hands in soap-suds, turning his head to receive the potion. And at last, ablutions finished, he ran down the stairs, checked himself, and managed to stroll leisurely through the hall and into the library.
She was writing; looked up, suddenly pale under her golden crown of hair; and the red lips quivered, but her eyes were steady.
She bent her head again, both hands abandoned to him, sitting in silence while his lips rested against her fingers.
"Is all well with you, Jacqueline?"
"Yes. And with you?"
"All is well with me. I missed you—if you know what that really means."
"Did you?"
"Yes. Won't you even look at me?"
"In a moment. Do you see all these piles of manuscript? All that is your new catalogue—and mine," she added, with a faint smile; but her head remained averted.
"You wonderful girl!" he said softly. "You wonderful girl!"