"So there's really no one?" she went on reflectively.
"Only my mother," he said gravely, "that is, so far."
At that her heart experienced a new throb. He was infinitely removed from any man she had ever dreamed of.
"Are you never lonely?"
"Perhaps I am," he replied with utter candor, "but I fill my life with things which to most people are inanimate, though to me they are very much alive. And what about yourself?"
"I don't know." Her voice was a little unsteady. She had a swift conviction that Clark was essentially kind, as well as a great creator. "You want this, don't you?" She held out the piece of ore while the flakes of gold shone dully in the sun.
"Please keep it, the first bit out of what I hope will make a mine.
And I hope you will have iron as well as gold in your life."
She glanced at him genuinely touched. "Can it really matter to you?"
"Why shouldn't it?"
"The first time I met you I was a little afraid of you."