"You can stay until the Admiral finishes his letter." Louise bent and kissed him, picked up her beaded bag, and left them together.
When she reached the threshold, she stopped and looked back. Archibald had piled up two red cushions and was sitting at Becky's feet.
"Tell me about him."
"Randy?"
"Yes. He's in love with you, of course."
"What makes you think that?"
"He sent you the story."
"Well, he is," she admitted, "but I am not sure that we ought to talk about it."
"Why not?"
"Is it quite fair, to him?"