"I shall miss them," I said. "I have never really appreciated them. I
admit I don't deserve to have them, and I am willing to give them up for
you, for Maude..."
We had made one of our favourite drives among the hills on the far side
of the Ashuela, and at six were back at Nancy's house. I did not go in,
but walked slowly homeward up Grant Avenue. It had been a trying
afternoon. I had not expected, indeed, that Nancy would have rejoiced,
but her attitude, her silences, betraying, as they did, compunctions,
seemed to threaten our future happiness.