"In the summer, David."
"What summer?"
"When I had my camp with him. I told you I had my camp with him: you know I told you about that, David."
"I thought it was one supper. You stayed in camp, then. You lived with him."
"Of course, David. I was his wife."
"How long were you?"
"Just eleven days, David."
"What?"
"That was all; just eleven days!"
"Then what happened?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know? Of course you do."
"I don't, David. I thought I did know but I didn't. I was wrong about him, you see. I'm trying to tell you, David; but I can't tell you all in a hurry."
David burst out: "My God, all in a hurry! You're talking about a hurry and we've been married three and a half years!"
"But I thought he'd been dead almost two years, when I married you, David. It was July, five years ago, I married Sam."
"The summer before you came to Northwestern?" David could not put his mind to counting the years.
"No; the summer before that. It was in Idaho, David; near Lakoon, a town named Lakoon, in Idaho. It's in the northern part. We were married there and we went down into the valley below Lakoon, where we camped."
Their bridal camp on the Wisconsin shore flashed
