They were friends.

She dare now finger his pots.

So she was happy.
Paul was waiting for her.

He loved her home-coming.

She was always her best so--triumphant, tired, laden with parcels, feeling rich in spirit.
He heard her quick, light step in the entry and looked up from his drawing.
"Oh!" she sighed, smiling at him from the doorway.
"My word, you ARE loaded!" he exclaimed, putting down his brush.
"I am!" she gasped.