“You wonderful boy!”
There seemed to be some delectable things in the ice chest.
They sat side by side on the kitchen table, blissfully nourishing each other. Birds do it. Love-smitten youth does it.
“To think,” he said, “that you had the nerve to face those beasts and tell them what you thought of them!”
“Darling!” she remonstrated, placing an olive between his lips.
“You should have the Croix de Guerre,” he said indistinctly.
“All I aspire to is a very plain gold ring,” she said, smiling at him sideways.
And she slipped her hand into his.
“Are you going back into the army, Jim?” she asked.
“Who said that?” he demanded.