Part 17 (1/2)

”I've always loved you.”

She spoke in a whisper.

”I'll find a way.” He told her. ”There must be a way.”

”But how? How?”

”I don't know. I never thought about it before. I never knew you cared.

I thought it was just the flowers. Nothing but the flowers. I hate the flowers. The feel of them--the sight of them--the smell of them. I couldn't ever come here without being suffocated. I was jealous of them; fearfully jealous.”

”And--I--thought.” Her voice was low.

”I--thought--that--because--I--feel--they--love--me;--because--I love--them;--somehow--they--brought--you--here.”

”And when I come--”

”When?”

Her voice itself trailed to a whisper.

”I will come to you! I--will!”

”How--can--you--find--me?”

”Somehow--I will!”

”If--only--you--could. I am lonely. Terribly--lonely.

If--it--would--be--soon.”

”It--must--be--soon.”

”I'll--wait--for you--always. But--if you are--real--you'll--come--soon.

It's lonely--waiting. And--I--don't--even--know--if--you--are.

I--don't--even--know.”

The Reverend William Cruthers started from his chair.

Some one had banged the window closed. Some one had lit the lamp on the center table. Its yellow light trickled through the room and over the scant old fas.h.i.+oned furniture and crept upwards across the booklined walls.

The room was stuffy and close. The smell of flowers had gone.

”Billy!”

He turned to see his sister rus.h.i.+ng across the room to him. He stooped a bit and caught her in his arms.

”Why, Gina. I didn't know. Why didn't you write and tell me? Who brought you up from the station?”

The girl kissed him hastily and enthusiastically on either cheek.