"Don't come to me yet.

Stay there where I can see your face.

Now tell me--tell me everything." He laughed, not altogether easily, with a note half of resentment, half of protest.
"Dear Ruth," he pleaded, "what have I done to deserve this?
Nothing has happened to me that I will not tell you about.

You have been sitting here alone, fancying things.

And I have news--great news! Wait till you hear it." "Go on," she said, simply.