He didn’t want her to go anywhere. He wanted her to stay right where she was. Come to think of it, he always wanted her to stay right where she was. He always thought of her as within reach.
“My vacation begins to-morrow,” she answered.
“And you’re going away––out of town?”
She nodded.
“You can’t do that,” he protested. “Why, I was depending upon you these next few days.”
It was difficult for her to tell at the moment whether the strain in her throat was joy or pain. That he needed her––that was joy; that he needed her only for the next few days––that was not joy.
“You mustn’t depend upon any one these next few days but yourself,” she answered earnestly. “And after that––just yourself and her.”
“That’s well enough if everything comes out all right.”
“Make it come out right. That’s your privilege 219 as a man. Oh, that’s why it’s so good to be a man!”
“You ought to have been a man yourself,” he told her.