'You are to stay, you know, for as long as you will.' 'That's sweet of you, Althea.' He looked at her.

Her kindness still buoyed him above his wonted level.

He had never allowed himself to become utterly hopeless, yet he had become almost resigned to hope deferred; a pressing, present hope grew in him now.

'But it's ambiguous, you know,' he went on, smiling back.

'If I'm to stay as long as I will, I'm never to leave you, you know.' Hope was becoming to Franklin.