“I told you I didn’t need to have them given to me, because I could take all I wanted myself. You don’t own the stars too.”
“I feel to-night as if I did,” he laughed. “I’ll have to pick out another for you.” He searched the heavens for one that suited him. He found one just beyond the Big Dipper, that shone steadily and quietly, like her eyes. He pointed it out to her.
“I’ll give you that one, and please don’t lose it.”
She was not looking.
“Do you see it?” he insisted.
She was forced to look. After all, he could afford to give her one out of so many, and it would be something to remember him by.
“Yes,” she answered, with a break in her voice.
“That one is yours,” he assured her.
It was as if he added, “All the rest belong to Frances.”