"It's just because we have something to do, isn't it?"
"That—and the leisure which the idle never have. It seems like a paradox, doesn't it?—to say that the idle never have any time to themselves."
"I know what you mean. I expect to work rather hard the rest of my life," she said seriously, "and yet I can foresee lots and lots of most delicious leisure awaiting me."
"Do you foresee anything else, pretty prophetess?"
"What else do you mean?"
"Well, for example, you will be alone here all winter."
"Do you mean loneliness?" she asked, smiling. "I don't expect to suffer from that. Molly will be here all winter and—you will write to me—" she turned to him—"won't you, Rix?"
"Certainly. Besides I'm coming up to see you every week."
"Every week!" she repeated, taken a little aback but smiling her sweet, confused smile. "Do you realise what you are so gaily engaging to do?"
"Perfectly. I'm going to build up here."