"Absolutely."
She leaned her head on her hand and sat gazing out of the open window. There were tears very near her eyes, but the lids closed and not one fell or even wet the thick lashes resting on her cheeks.
"I supposed it would please you to know what you have done."
The face she turned toward him was wonderful in its radiance.
She said: "I have never been as happy in all my life, I think. Thank you for telling me. I needed just—that."
He studied her for a moment, nimble wits at work. Then:
"Has your father—and the others—in their letters, said anything about it to you?"
"Yes, father has. He did not say matters had been desperate."
"I suppose he does not dare commit such a thing to paper—yet.... You do not burn your letters," he added blandly.
"I have no reason to."