He nodded.
"Possibly," he added, with an air of judicious weighing, "I sensed it
coming before even you knew it. But we will not go into that or other
things."
"You have seen..." she attempted to ask, stung almost to shame at
thought of her husband having witnessed any caress of hers and
Graham's.
"We will not demean ourselves with details, Paula. Besides, there was
and is nothing wrong about any of it. Also, it was not necessary for
me to see anything. I have my memories of when I, too, kissed stolen
kisses in the pause of the seconds between the frank, outspoken 'Good
nights.' When all the signs of ripeness are visible--the love-shades
and love-notes that cannot be hidden, the unconscious caress of the
eyes in a fleeting glance, the involuntary softening of voices, the
cuckoo-sob in the throat--why, the night-parting kiss does not need to
be seen. It has to be. Still further, oh my woman, know that I justify
you in everything."
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