“It’s my own--the only thing of mine you’ve ever seen me in; I used to wear this at the office where I worked. You know, I told you.” “I wondered why I loved you more than ever before, Ruth. Oh, silly sweetheart! You think you’re going back to an office!” He laughed, delightedly. “No; we must think the truth, Gerry. We’ve been moving in madness through the war, my love!” “Ah! You’ve said that!” “I didn’t mean it! We mustn’t imagine that everything’s to be changed for us just because we’ve met in war and----” “And you’ve saved me, Ruth!” “You saved me, too!” “Oh, we shan’t argue that, dear. But about not being changed--well I’m changed incurably and forever, my love. I mean that! You’ve done most of the changing too. Did you think you’d made me an American only for duration of the war?” “But Gerry, we must think. You’ll go home and have all your grandfather’s buildings and money and----” “You’ll have all, too, and me besides, dear--if you want me? Do you suppose that all these months I haven’t been thinking, too? Do you suppose I’d want you for a wife only in war? I want you, Ruth--and I’ll need you even more, I think, to help me in the peace to come. But that’s not why I’m here. I want you--you--now and forever! Can I have you?” “You have me,” Ruth said. “And I--I have you!”