He always seems to be making fun of things, and one should be serious
on a honeymoon."
She flashed a smile at him and he smiled back. "I shall be very
serious on mine."
"Of course. Derry, wouldn't you like a honeymoon here?"
"I should like it anywhere--with you--"
"Well," she drew a deep breath, "Daddy says we may--"
"We may what, Jean-Joan?"
"Get married--"
"Before he goes?"
"Yes."
She leaned forward to get the full effect of his surprise, to watch the
dawn of his delight.
But something else dawned. Embarrassment? Out of a bewildering
silence she heard him say, "I am not sure, dear, that it will be best
for us to marry before he goes."
She had a stunned feeling that, quite unaccountably, Derry was failing
her. A shamed feeling that she had offered herself and had been
rejected.
Something of this showed in her face. "My dear, my dear," he said,
"let us go in. I can tell you better there."
Once more in the warm sitting room with the door shut behind them, he
lifted her bodily in his arms. "Don't you know I want it," he
whispered, tensely. "Tell me that you know--"
When he set her down, his own face showed the stress of his emotion.
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