You'll have to stay girl--Boy--all the rest of your life!
I've learned to be fairly sure of myself, but I'm not asking to be sure
of you yet. I'd never want to be too sure of you unless all the rest
of my whole world had come tumbling down. And then--then I'd need to
know always that I could stake my soul on your keeping faith. I'd want
to know that I could reach out and find your hand searching for mine in
the dark. Your face was the first, girl--it's been the only one.
It'll be the last thing I'll see, the last moment there is sight in my
eyes!"
His slow, infinitely gentle voice stopped. He sat head up, before her.
And then her choking sob answered him through that blind silence. He
was on his feet then; he started forward, and remembered again. And as
if that slim-limbed, huddled little figure had been a boy indeed, he
dropped one arm reassuringly over her bowed shoulders.
"Pity, Barbara?" he asked quietly. "Are you crying from pity? Because
if it's that--it--it beats me!"
She shook her head vehemently.
"I'm not crying because of anything," she sniffed. "I'm just
crying--that' all!"
One hand went searching through pocket after pocket; one elbow came up
to shield her eyes. She slid from the tree-trunk and swayed
unsteadily, and groped out and found his arm. And it was the boy he
had just tried to comfort who curled both hands tightly around his
flannel sleeve and hid a wet face against his shoulder.
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