“That's enough Medicine Man!” she said. “You did not make a 'mess' of it, or anything else you ever attempted. As for appearing like other men, thank Heaven, you do not. You look just a whole world bigger and better and finer. Come, carry me out quickly. I am wild to go. Please put my lovely flowers in water, Molly, only give me a few to hold.”
The Harvester arranged the pink coverlet, picked up the Girl, and carried her to the living-room.
“We will rest here a little,” he said, “and then, if you feel equal to it, we will try the veranda. Are you easy now?”
She nestled her face against the soft shirt and smiled at him. She lifted her hand, laid it on his smooth cheek and then the crisp hair.
“Oh Man!” she cried. “Thank God you didn't give me up, too! I want life! I want LIFE!”
The Harvester tightened his grip just a trifle. “Then I thank God, too,” he said. “Can you tell me how you are, dear? Is there any difference?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I grow tired lying so long, but there isn't the ghost of an ache in my bones. I can just feel pure, delicious blood running in my veins. My hands and feet are always warm, and my head cool.”
The Harvester's face drew very close. “How about your heart, honey?” he whispered. “Anything new there?”
“Yes, I am all over new inside and out. I want to shout, run, sing, and swim. Oh I'd give anything to have you carry me down and dip me in the lake right now.”
“Soon, Girl! That will come soon,” prophesied the Harvester.