So I just packed and came. Will--be
sensible. Tell me everything."
"Best of news! Reinstated!" He bellowed the glad tidings over her
head. She was all warm and palpitating in his arms, her dear body so
delicate and fragile and yet so round and firm, her dear face soft and
smooth, with lips that trembled and smelled like garden flowers.
"Did you come up by the nine o'clock train? How long have you been
waiting here?"
"Oh, don't bother about me. I'm nothing. It's you I want to hear
about."
Then they sat side by side on the narrow little bed, he with his arm
firmly clasped round her waist, and she nestling against him with her
face hidden on his breast.
"Mav, my bird, I can't never leave you again. I've bin just a lost dog
without you. Did you start before you got my Sunday letter?"
"Yes."
"Every day I wrote--didn't I?--just like the old time. But I've a bone
to pick with you, young lady. What d'ye mean by not writing to me more
regular? Not even so much as a post-card these last three days!"
"Will--I, I couldn't. I was too anxious while it all remained in
suspense."
"Yes, but you might have sent me a card. I told you cards would
satisfy me. I was thinking of you off and on all yesterday.
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