“If you really mean it we’ll show him about that.”
She shook hands with him on it.
“You’re very good to me,” she said, so naively that he could not keep back his smile.
“Most people would say I was very good to myself. What you offer me is a thing I might have fought for all my life and never won.”
“Then I’m glad if it pleases you. That’s enough about business. Now, we’ll talk about something important.”
He could think of only one thing more important to him than this, but it appeared she meant plans to see as much as possible of him while he was in the city.
“I suppose you have any number of other friends here that will want you?” she said.
“They can’t have me if this friend wants me,” he answered, with that deep glow in his eyes she recognized from of old; and before she could summon her reserves of defense he asked: “Do you want me, Aline?”
His meaning came to her with a kind of sweet shame. “No, no, no—not yet,” she cried.
“Dear,” he answered, taking her little hand in his big one, “only this now: that I can’t help wanting to be near you to comfort you, because I love you. For everything else, I am content to wait.”