Adelaide lifted his hand to her cheek. “This is really ‘good-bye,’ isn’t it, Ricky? It seems rather queer to be saying it.”
CHAPTER XXIII
SPRING COMES TO SHERWOOD
Jane was home again. Judy was better. Philomel sang. The world was a lovely place.
“Oh, but it’s good to be back,” Jane was telling Baldy at breakfast. The windows were wide open, the fragrance of lilacs streamed in, there were pink hyacinths on the table.
“It’s heavenly.”
Baldy smiled at her. “The same old Jane.”
She shook her head, and the light in her eyes wavered as if some breath of doubt fanned it. “Not quite. The winter hasn’t been easy. I’m a thousand years older.”
“And with a wedding day ahead of you.”