He kissed her hands, held her at arm's length a second, then turned on his heel and stood motionless.
He heard her move almost noiselessly away; heard a desk open and close; heard the chair by the window move as she seated herself.
"Come here," she said in a curious, choked voice.
He turned, went swiftly to her side.
"Great heavens!" he said. "When did you bake that cake?"
"Y-yesterday."
"Why?"
"B-because I was going away to New York and would never perhaps see you again unless I was entirely cured. And I meant to leave this for you—so you would know that I had followed you even here—so you would know I had made a plucky try at you—through all these months—"
"You—you corker!"
"D-do you really mean it?"