Ben's remarks were not altogether clear to Baird, but the first part of his speech was easy to grasp. "I'll try not to tire her," he promised.
"All right," Ben said, and departed.
Baird watched him rolling off to the woods, like a bear freed from human interference. His oddly bent body suggested a craving for the woods and a thirst for running water. He had been caged for a long time; Baird guessed that it had worn upon him; he doubted whether any one but Ann could have compelled Ben to do it.
To fill in time, Baird walked to the Penniman house, loitering along beneath the cedars. He was reflecting that love did queer things to a man; it could strengthen his body into iron, make him fight like mad, or turn him as weak as a baby and as humble as a slave; weak in the knees and sick about the heart.... But, if only for a moment, he could hold Ann in his arms ... and she should cling to him.... He stopped, shaken from head to foot at the thought of possible response.
The thing swept him and shook him.... Then he walked on. He was a fool; he was forgetting. The best he could hope for was a little kindness. She meant to be kind, or she wouldn't have sent for him.
It was not twilight yet, the sunset was too brilliant, and fear of not finding Ann on the porch made him come slowly up the road. When he saw her white dress, he strode along. He was grateful to the glow, for he could see her face. It was not so thin as when he had last seen her, and her eyes were less shadowed; a little of the old-time softness had returned to her lips and chin. But she was still wan and thin and fragile enough to remind him of Ben's warning. So help him! he'd behave more sensibly than on the last occasion! He could even force himself to be banal.
"It's good of you to see me," he said when he reached her. "Are you really feeling well enough to talk?"
She smiled up at him, and her smile made her look more like the Ann he remembered. "I can stand up, but I won't," she said with a touch of her old-time gaiety. "My feet feel queer an' far away when I do."
"Stand up! I should think not!... May I sit here on the step, where I sat the first time we ever really talked together? That was about a hundred years ago, I think." Baird ventured this reference to the past.
Ann answered gravely. "A little less than two months ago—I was thinking of it to-day."