Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. He did not know—and probably never would unless she told him—that it was very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly ways in this latitude. She was suddenly very aware of the room, the television still blaring, and the chill in the air. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting.
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