“I do understand, I think,” she murmured slowly. She had not looked at him, and her gaze sought the distant trees. “I did not suffer, though,” she added.
“You had been crying—they hurt me, too, those anxious eyes of yours.”
“I was afraid you might not come back, that was all,” she said frankly. “I’m rather useless, you see.”
He took her other hand and made her look at him.
“You felt the need of me?” he queried.
“Yes, of course,” she said simply. “What would I have done without you?”
He laughed happily, “What wouldn’t you have done—if you hadn’t cut your finger?”
She colored and her eyes, in some confusion, sought the two trees which still bore the evidence of her ill-fated building operation.
“Yesterday, when I was away you started to build a shack for me,” he went on. “It was your right, of course——”