"
"I'll steal away and leave a note behind me."
"And you'll go alone?"
She caught at a hope.
"Unless you'll go with me, Dick?"
"I? Take you--to Pierre?"
She did not speak to urge him, but in the silence her beauty pleaded
for her.
He said: "Mary, how lovely you are. If I go I will have you for a few
days--for a week at most, all to myself."
She shook her head. From the window behind her the sunset light flared
in her hair, flooding it with red-gold.
"All the time that we are gone, you will never say things like this,
Dick?"
"I suppose not. I should be near you, but terribly far away from your
thoughts all the while. Still, you will be near. You will be very
beautiful, Mary, riding up the trail through the pines, with all the
scents of the evergreens blowing about you, and I--well, I must go
back to a second childhood and play a game of suppose--"
"A game of what?"
"Of supposing that you are really mine, Mary, and riding out into the
wilderness for my sake."
She stepped a little closer, peering into his face.
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