"So do I, ma'am," said Sim Gage.
But neither really knew what was the wish in the other's heart.
CHAPTER IX
THE HALT AND THE BLIND
The sweet valley, surrounded by its mountains, was now a sight to quicken the pulse of any heart alive to beauty, as it lay in its long vistas before them; but neither of these two saw the mountains or the trees, or the green levels that lay between. Long silences fell, broken only by the crackling clatter of the horses' hoofs on the hard roadway.
It was Mary Warren who at last spoke, after a deep breath, as though summoning her resolution. "You're an honest man," said she. "I ought to be honest with you."
"I reckon that's so enough, ma'am," said Sim Gage. "But I just told you I ain't been honest with you. I never wrote one of them letters that you got—it was some one else."
"But you came to meet me—you're here——"
"Yes, but I didn't write them letters. That was all done by friends of mine."