“You’re with me now,” she said and held close and tight.
“And we are almost there.”
“Yes.”
“Have I told you, yet, properly, that I love you?”
“You told me. But tell me again.”
“I love you,” he said. “Take it frontally and formally please.”
“I take it anyway you want as long as it is true.”
“That’s the proper attitude,” he said. “You good, brave, lovely girl. Turn your hair sideways once on top of this bridge and let it blow obliquely.”
He had made a concession, with obliquely, instead of saying, correctly, oblique.
“That’s easy,” she said. “Do you like it?”
He looked and saw the profile and the wonder early morning colour and her chest upstanding in the black sweater and her eyes in the wind and he said, “Yes. I like it.”
“I’m very glad,” she said.
