“Curious!”
“He should be back by now.”
“I hope he doesn’t come back.”
“Oh, Phil, so do I—but he will. And you?”
“My guide, Joe Keegón, is there,” and he pointed upstream.
A shade passed over her face.
“But we’ll send them away, Jane, back where they came from. We need no guides now, you and I, no guides but our hearts, no servants but our hands. We’ll begin again—where we left off—yesterday.”
She crouched closer in his arms.
“Yesterday. Yes, it was only yesterday that we were here,” she sighed. “But the long night between!”
“A dream, Jane, a dream—a phantom unhappiness—only this is real.”