“I am lonely,” he said. “May I stay? I never see you alone now, Launa.”
“Are the others all right? We will talk about the war. Where is Mrs. Cooper?”
“They are all asleep, Sylvia too. Bolton is writing letters, answering the bundle he got this morning. Wainbridge, thank Heaven, has gone to see his uncle.”
“Probably to arrange about our marriage.”
She seated herself opposite him and said this rather defiantly. She wanted to remember Mr. Wainbridge and her marriage.
“You are not married yet. . . . To-day is ours.”
“What shall we do now? You and I?”
“You and I,” he repeated, with joy. “Talk. Be glad we are together.”
“And can talk—about Canada.”
“Yes, about Canada,” he replied. “The products or the people?”