He said slowly: "Why didn't you give them up to me if you didn't really want them, Betty?"
She shook her pretty head. "I don't know. . . . But I'm afraid it was only partly obstinacy."
"It was only partly that with me," he said.
They smiled.
"I just wanted to detain you, I suppose," he admitted.
"George, you wouldn't expect me to match that horrid confession—would you?"
"No, I wouldn't ask it of you."
He laid his cheek against hers and whispered: "Darling, do you think our great love justifies our concealing my myopia?"
"George," she murmured, "I think it does. . . . Besides, I'm dreadfully near-sighted myself."
"You!"