Jean sat so long at the table rereading these words in a daze of happiness that the milk boiled up all over the stove, into the gas jets, and left a burned ring on the bottom of the pan. But that was fine, because there was no chore in existence that could dampen her spirits now. He wanted to see her. Life was suddenly beautiful, precious and full of meaning. She cleaned the hob and made a fresh mug of Allenburys, and when it came to bedtime astonished her mother by throwing her arms around her and squeezing her tightly.
