Brent, the last to enter, and the last to leave, took her hand in his and squeezed it.
“I’ll bet you’ll never go flying with me again,” he said ruefully.
“Try me,” she laughed.
“Anyway, I’m glad to see you all right again, kiddo,” he said with a wide smile.
Gale sat up. “You weren’t hurt much then,” she murmured thankfully.
“No. But you gave us plenty to think about. We were worried to death about you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think you would worry so much.”
“Worry? Oh, my dear——” He checked himself and grinned. “Go to sleep, youngster. Tomorrow we go back to Marchton.” He looked down at her for a long time. “Good night,” he said finally and kissed the top of her head. Hastily he made his way out.
Gale lay and let little shivers run up and down her back. She was so comfortable and warm, so supremely happy, she let her dreams run riot. Tomorrow she would be home again, safe and among friends. But she had been among friends here, too. It would be hard to leave Antoinette and François and—Toto. If the little dog hadn’t crawled out on that ledge this morning, if she hadn’t gone after him and if the ice hadn’t crumpled she might still be living in the shadows she had lived in for the past weeks. She still might not know who she was.
She sat up and looked out the window. In the distance Lonesome Man was brilliantly alight with moonlight but now he was a man without a nose. She smiled slightly. She had forever ruined the facial beauty of Lonesome Man but it had brought her happiness.