She
felt Norman's glance, and looked up quickly, and smiled and shook her
head: "No, Italy is not my home, although I love it so well. There is
a certain wide old doorway not many miles from New York, and the hills
around it, and the great river before it, and the people in it, all
belong together, too. That's where we belong, Norman, in America,
our home," and Mae struck a grand final pose with her hands clasped
ecstatically, and her eyes flashing in the true Goddess of Liberty
style.
"Yes, I believe we do, Mae; I am almost anxious to get back and begin
work in that young, eager country."
"And so am I," said Mae.
Norman laughed. "To think of your coming down to work, you young
butterfly."
"It is what we all have to come to, isn't it?--unless we go to that
creature that finds some mischief still for idle hands to do. I don't
expect to come to stone-cutting or cattle-driving, but I do expect to
settle down into a tolerable housewifely little woman, and--"
"And look after me.
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