He knew that she must, and he made no attempt to gainsay her.
"You are going to America," she went on. "If you should——"
And just at that moment, Harber says, anything seemed possible to him, and he said eagerly: "Yes—if you will—I should like——"
How well they understood one another is evident from that. Neither had said it definitely, but each knew.
"Have you a piece of paper?" she asked.
Harber produced a pencil, and groped for something to write upon.
All that his pockets yielded was a sealed envelope. He gave it to her.
She looked at it closely, and saw in the brilliant moonshine that it was sealed and stamped and addressed.
"I'll spoil it for mailing," she said.
"It doesn't matter," Harber told her ineptly. "Or you can write it lightly, and I'll erase it later."
There was a little silence. Then suddenly she laughed softly, and there was a tiny catch in the voice. "So that you can forget?" she said bravely. "No! I'll write it fast and hard … so that you can … never … forget!"