"Why should I? Should I be fit to live myself if I were not true to myself?"
"You are! You always are!"
"No one can be who isn't truthful to himself."
Ramsey gazed again. A sense of his suffering benumbed her, and for relief she asked: "Is that why you don't wish it were evening, when really you do?"
He smiled. "I can't wish the sun to get out of my way. That's what it would mean, isn't it?"
She fell to thinking what it meant. All at once she pointed: "That's the First Chickasaw Bluff.... Yes, I s'pose it does mean that.... It's terrible how thoughtless I am."
"It doesn't terrify me. I promise you it never shall."
Was he making game of her? She narrowed her lids and looked at him sidewise. No, plainly he was not; so plainly that she took refuge in another question. "Don't you like night better than day sometimes?"
"I do, often."
"Why?"