“Yes,” gasped the man.

Two hands came fluttering out, and he just had presence of mind to step in range so that they rested on his shoulders.

“Has the bluebird come?”

“Not yet!”

“Then I am not too late?”

“Never too late to come to me, Ruth.”

“I am welcome?”

“I have no words to tell you how welcome.”

She swayed forward and the Harvester tried to reach her lips, but they brushed his cheek and touched his ear.

“I have brought one more kiss I want to try,” she whispered.