For a long while he sat beside her in silence. She had slipped out of his arms and now sat with one hand lying across his, watching the enigmatic expressions which flitted over his rather sombre and flushed features.
Finally he looked up:
"Steve?"
"Yes?"
"Suppose I fell in love with—you?"
"Oh, Jim!" She began to laugh, then the mirth faded in her grey eyes, and her lips grew quiet and rather grave.
"You?" she said, half to herself.
"Do you remember some letters I once wrote you?"
"Yes."
"You wrote asking if I meant them to be love letters."