"That's what I was whippoorwilling about—I knew I'd get no other chance to talk to you—I wanted to say good-by, you know."
The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. He dropped beside her, stole an arm about her waist, and felt her tremble.
"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm sorry—I really am sorry—to make you feel bad."
This was too much for her, and she sobbed frankly.
"Oh, Morton! How could you! How could you!—And now you've got to go away!"
"There now—don't cry—sh!—they'll hear you."
She did hush at that.
"And don't feel so bad—I'll come back some time—to see you."
"No, you won't!" she answered with sudden fierceness. "You'll just go—and stay—and I never shall see you again!"
He drew her closer to him. "And do you care—so much—Viva?"