I love old Donald." "And I must go--soon," he added.
"It is only fair to him that you should," she agreed.
"He--he is determined we shall go in the morning," he finished, keeping his eyes from her.
For a moment Joanne did not answer.

Her fingers interweaved with his, her warm little palm stroked the rough back of his hand.

Then she said, very softly: "And why do you think that will displease me, John, dear?
I will be ready!" "You!" Her eyes were on him, full, and dark, and glowing, and in them were both love and laughter.
"You dear silly John!" she laughed.

"Why don't you come right out and tell me to stay at home, instead of--of--'beating 'round the bush'-- as Peggy Blackton says?
Only you don't know what a terrible little person you've got, John.

You really don't.