“And don't you keep forgetting it!” he cried. “Now open that box and put on the trinket; because I want to take you to the cabin when the sun falls level on the drive.”
She opened the case, exposing a thread of gold that appeared too slender for the weight of an exquisite pendant, set with shimmering pearls.
“If you will look down there,” the Harvester pointed over the railing to the arrowhead lilies touched with the fading light, “you will see that they are similar.”
“They are!” cried the Girl. “How lovely! Which is more beautiful I do not know. And you won't like it if I say I must not.”
She held the open case toward the Harvester.
“'Possession is nine points in the law,'” he quoted. “You have taken it already and it is in your hands; now make the gift perfect for me by putting it on and saying nothing more.”
“My wedding gift!” repeated the Girl. Slowly she lifted the beautiful ornament and held it in the light. “I'm so glad you just force me to take it,” she said. “Any half-normal girl would be delighted. I do accept it. And what's more, I am going to keep and wear it and my ring at suitable times all my life, in memory of what you have done to be kind to me on this awful day.”
“Thank you!” said the Harvester. “That is a flash of the proper spirit. Allow me to put it on you.”
“No!” said the Girl. “Not yet! After a while! I want to hold it in my hands, where I can see it!”
“Now there is one other thing,” said the Harvester.