And again the
feeling came to him that surely he would live here for years.
Allan came in and they had a talk.
"Deborah says she has told you the news."
"Yes. Everything's all right, I suppose--her condition, I mean," said
Roger.
"Couldn't be better."
"Just as I thought."
"Those six weeks we had up in Maine--"
"Yes, you both show it. Working hard?"
"Yes--"
"And Deborah?" Roger asked.
"You'll have to help me hold her in."
They talked a few moments longer and went down to the living room. John was
there with Deborah. All four went in to dinner. And through the
conversation, from time to time Roger noticed the looks that went back and
forth between husband and wife; and again he caught Deborah smiling as
though oblivious of them all. After dinner she went with him into his den.
"Well! Do you like the house?" she inquired.
"Better than ever," he replied.
"I wonder if you'll mind it. There'll be people coming to dinner, you
know--"
"That won't bother me any," he said.
"And committee meetings now and then. But you're safe in here, it's a good
thick door."
"Let 'em talk," he retorted, "as hard as they please. You're married
now--they can't scare me a bit. Only at ten o'clock, by George, you've got
to knock off and go to bed."
"Oh, I'll take care of myself," she said.
"If you don't, Allan will. We've had a talk."
"Scheming already."
"Yes. When will it be?"
"In April, I think.
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