She was silent for a long time. "I'd rather wait—till you come back," she said finally.
It was the answer he expected. She was very true to herself, and he liked it. "I'll be gone for a good many months," he said quietly. "What will you do while I'm gone—stay here?"
"I—they want me to go to school.... I can't stay here. My father wanted me to be educated—I'm so ignorant. He told me he meant to make a wonderful woman of me. That I would grow to be a more charmin' an' wonderful woman than Judith.... But those things he thought because he loved me so much." She spoke bleakly.
"You'll be a deal more wonderful than Judith, because you have a quality she doesn't possess," Baird said. "Do you want to go to school, Ann?"
There was actual terror in her reply. "No. They'd all be strangers—there's nobody would care anything about me."
There it was, her one great need, the thing upon which he must build. Baird kissed her breath away. "You sweet reluctant thing! Do you think I'd go away without you!" His voice suddenly deepened. "Ann, you want to be loved and I want to love. I've been hungry for you, literally starved. I want you—you can't understand how much I want you. You'll travel, and you can study, and I'll be satisfied just to study you.... Come with me, Ann!"
"An' you don't mind taking me and trouble both together—for there may be big trouble?'
"I've told you—I'll take anything, so you come with it."
The dusk had gathered rapidly; close as they were to each other, their faces had grown indistinct. Ann's answer was groping hands lifted to him, a pressure of slim fingers on his neck. But when he tried to kiss her she bent her head, smothering his caresses with her hair. "I must say 'yes' my own way," she objected.
"Well—say it your way," Baird whispered, husky from emotion.