"We must let them alone. Tea is ready, but I sha'n't say so until they move.... What was it you asked me, Jim?—whether I am awake? ... Do you know that I believe I'm stirring in my slumbers because—because, now and then—just for an instant—a stab of contrition goes through and through me. Do you know why? I have a glimmering of guilty misgiving concerning this painful throb of conscience——"
She looked about her, searching among the paraphernalia of the tea tray. "Oh, the deuce! I remember, now, that we're out of lemons! You have some, haven't you?"
"Yes, I'll run up and——"
"I know where they are in your ice box. I'll find them——"
"What nonsense! Wait!——"
She had started already; but swiftly as her light feet sped he overtook her on the stairs; gathered her into his arms, all pink and breathing rapidly:
"Steve—my darling!——"
"I thought you might do this.... I wanted to see——"
"What?"
"Whether it could happen to me again—what I experienced with you——"