"Then you'll die his wife, Faith; for the Sally'll never stir from here."
"If she never does," said Faith, "I'll die Noll Wing's wife, as you say."
He cried breathlessly: "What was Noll Wing that you should cling to him so, Faith?"
"He was the man I loved," she said.
His face blackened, and his fist banged the desk. "Aye; and but for him you'd have loved me. Loved me...."
"I never told you that, Dan'l."
"But 'twas true. I could see. You'd have loved me, Faith...."
"Dan'l," she said slowly, "I'm in no mind to talk so much of love, this night."
The man sat back in silence for a space, not looking at her; nor did she look at him. In the end, however, he shaped his words afresh. "Faith," he said softly, "we were boy and girl together, you and I. Grew up together, played together.... I loved you before you were more than a girl. Before you ever saw Noll Wing. Can you remember?"
He was striving with all his might to win her; and Faith said gently: "Yes, Dan'l. I remember."