Ophelia’s mouth hardened.
“Italy!”
“A land to live in.”
“That depends on one’s companion.”
“Ah! I remember.”
“I spent my honeymoon there—a never-to-be-forgotten affair.”
“Was the bibliomaniac dull?”
“A sort of ‘Wandering Jew’ in trousers.”
“Let him evaporate,” said the soldier, with a laugh; “upon my soul, you are looking in splendid health.”
“To-day—perhaps,” she answered, with a reawakened smile.