Why don't you say you're glad to see me--after five years ?" "Stella! You know I am.

Six years, please.

But I thought you were still in Prescott ?" "We came here three years ago.

Here's a bench.

Now tell it to me!" But Pringle stood beside and looked down at her without speech, with a smile unexpected from a face so lean, so brown, so year-bitten and iron-hard--a smile which happily changed that face, and softened it.
The girl's eyes danced at him.
"I'm so glad you've come, John Wesley! Good old Wes!" "So I am--both those little things.