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he door. The next moment the horses' hoofs pounded up the drive, and she heard the crunch of the wheels coming to a standstill on the wet gravel. A murmur from Simpkins, then Ronnie's gay, joyous voice, as he entered the house. "In the sitting-room? Oh, thanks! Yes, take my coat. No, not this. I will put it down myself." Then his footstep crossing the hall. Then--Ronnie filled the doorway; tall, bronzed, radiant as ever! She had forgotten how beautiful he was. And--yes--the love in his eyes was just as she had known it would be--eager, glowing. She never knew how he reached her; but she let go the table and held out her arms. In a moment he was in them, and his were flung around her. His lips sought hers, but her face was hidden on his breast. She felt his kisses in her hair. "Oh, Helen!" he said. "Helen! Why did I ever go!" She held him closer still, sobbing a little. "Darling, we both thought it right you should go. And--you didn't know." "No," he agreed rather vaguely, "of course I didn't know." He thought she meant that he had not known how long the parting would seem, how insistent would be the need of each other. "I should not have gone, if I had known," he added, tenderly. "I knew you wouldn't, Ronnie. But--I was all right." "Of course you were all right. You know, you said we were a healthy couple, so I suppose there was no need to worry or to expect anything else. Was there? All the same I _did_ worry--sometimes." She waited for more. It did not come. Ronnie was kissing her hair again. "Were you glad when you had my letter, Ronnie?" she asked, very low. "Which letter, sweet? I was always glad of every letter." "Why, the last--the one to Leipzig." "Ah, of course! Yes, I was very glad. I read it in your cousin's flat. I had just been showing him--oh, Helen! That reminds me--darling, I have something to show you! Such a jolly treasure--such a surprise! I left it in the hall. Would you like me to fetch it?" He loosed his arms and she withdrew from them, looking up into his glowing face. "Yes, Ronnie," she said. "Why, certainly. Do fetch it." He rushed off into the hall. He fumbled eagerly with the buckles of the canvas bag. It had never taken so long, to draw the precious Infant forth. He held it up to the hall lights. He wanted to make sure that it was really as brown and as beautiful as it had always seemed to him. Yes, it was as richly brown as the darkest hors
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