Her lips were an ashen gray. "You mean you'll be there … dead?"
"If you are afraid …"
"Afraid!" She drew herself up proudly.
"Well … there is danger for you, too… I should have thought of that!"
"You do not understand even now." She went and stood close to him. "I love you … can't you realize that?"
He felt suddenly abashed, as if he stood convicted of being a cup too shallow to hold her outpouring.
"Good-by," he whispered.
She closed her eyes, lifting her brow for his waiting kiss. The heavy perfume of her hair seemed to draw his soul to a prodigal outpouring. He found her lips again, clasping her close.
"Good-by," he heard her answer.
And at that moment he felt the mysterious Presence that had swept so close to him on that heartbreaking Christmas Eve at Fairview.