After dinner she stood on the porch. The rain had ceased, a cool damp breeze shook the drops from the leaves, and the stars were shining. Presently, at the sound of a step behind her, she started. He was standing at her shoulder.
“Honora!” he said.
She did not move.
“Honora, I haven't seen you—alone—since morning. It seems like a thousand years. Honora?”
“Yes.”
“Did you mean it?
“Did I mean what?”
“When you said you'd marry me.” His voice trembled a little. “I've been thinking of nothing but you all day. You're not—sorry? You haven't changed your mind?”
She shook her head.
“At dinner when you wouldn't look at me, and this afternoon—”