"You were there!" cried Olivia, "I thought—"
"That you saw me?" St. George pressed eagerly.
"I think that I thought so," she admitted.
"But you never looked at me," said St. George dolefully, "and I had on a forty-two gored dress, or something."
"Ah," Olivia confessed, "but I had thought so before when I knew it couldn't be you."
St. George's heart gave a great bound.
"When before?" he wanted to know ecstatically.
"Ah, before," she explained, "and then afterward, too."
"When afterward?" he urged.
(Smile if you like, but this is the way the happy talk goes in Yaque as you remember very well, if you are honest.)