She knelt beside him. She drew him into her arms. It was their moment
in the green forest over again, but now there was no antagonism in
their love. She was the warm, good spirit of the life to which he had
become reconciled. They had belonged to one another from the
beginning. His fear had stood between them. But she had gone on
loving him, steadfastly, because nothing else was possible to her.
"Francey--do you remember--that time we fought one another--over an
idiotic stick? I was such a young rotter--I wouldn't own up--that you
were stronger than I was."
She took his wet hands and kissed them. It was as though she had said
aloud, smiling to herself:
"It's all right now, anyhow, you odd, sad little boy."
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