He sighed, then spoke.
“So be it, dear one. I shall never ask again. God knows what holds you back if you can even love me a little.”
“Ess, God knaws—everything.”
“I must not cry out against that. Yet it makes it all the harder. To think that you will dedicate all your beautiful life to a memory! it only makes my loss the greater, and shows the depths of you to me.”
She uttered a little scream and her cheek paled, and she put up her hands with the palms outward as though warding away his words.
“Doan’t ’e say things like that or give me any praise, for God’s sake. I caan’t bear it. I be weak, weak flesh an’ blood, weaker ’n water. If you could only see down in my heart, you’d be cured of your silly love for all time.”
He did not answer, but picked up her basket and proceeded with her out of the valley. Chris gave a hand to the child, and save for Tim’s prattle there was no speaking.
At length they reached Newtake, when Martin yielded up the basket and bade Chris “good-night.” He had already turned, when she called him back in a strange voice.
“Kiss the li’l bwoy, will ’e? I want ’e to. I’m that fond of un. An’ he ’peared to take to ’e; an’ he said ‘By-by’ twice to ’e, but you didn’t hear un.”
Then the man kissed Tim on a small, purple-stained mouth, and saw his eyes very lustrous with sleep, for the day was done.