He appeared about to make a further remark, but failed to do so.

His thoughts, however, had gone off somewhere, Louise observed.

Then he inquired in a matter-of-fact way: "When will you ride up to camp again ?" "Not until it grows warmer.

Twelve miles or more is rather too far for a canter on a sharp day." He cast his eyes about at the strings of evergreen and the suspended red bells and holly wreaths.
"I'll run down again, if I may, before the holidays are over," said he.

"If only for another look at those things.