She laughed again whimsically.
"Well," she said, "when I travel back over the seams I've sewed, looks like a good long day. I guess there's miles enough of 'em to stretch from here to State o' Maine."
Jerry seemed to be speaking from a dream.
"And the others have married and got children growing up," he mused. "Seems if we'd missed the best of it."
They had risen and stood facing each other, Marietta with the basket in her hand. Jerry took it gently from her and set it on the ground.
"Marietta," he said, "I guess I'm kind of waked up."
Her face quivered. He thought he had never seen her look exactly that way before.
"I'd work terrible hard," said he. "I guess I could make you have an easier time."
Then his appealing eyes met hers, and Marietta, because she had no wish to deny him anything, gave him her hands, and they kissed soberly.
When they walked back to the road, Jerry drew her aside to the birches on the sunny knoll.