As the last rose-glow turned to gray and the last strain quivered into silence, the man spoke. His voice was almost harsh with self-control.
"David, the time has come. We'll have to give it up—you and I."
The boy turned wonderingly, his face still softly luminous.
"Give what up?"
"This—all this."
"This! Why, father, what do you mean? This is home!"
The man nodded wearily.
"I know. It has been home; but, David, you didn't think we could always live here, like this, did you?"
David laughed softly, and turned his eyes once more to the distant sky-line.
"Why not?" he asked dreamily. "What better place could there be? I like it, daddy."