“I’m glad home was here for you to come to, Larry.” Mary-Clare felt her heart beat quicker––not with love, but the growing fear.
“Are you, honest?”
“Yes, Larry. Honest.”
“I wonder.” It was the old voice now. “When I lay out there, and crawled along–––”
“Please, Larry, we have agreed not to talk of that!”
“Yes, I know, but even then, while I was crawling, I got to thinking what I was crawling back to––and counting the chances and whether it was worth while.”
“Please, Larry!”
“All right!” Then, in the new voice: “You’re beautiful, Mary-Clare. Sometimes, sitting here, I get to wondering if I really ever saw you before. Second sight, you know.”
“Yes, second sight, Larry.”
“And Noreen––she is mine, Mary-Clare.” This was flung out defiantly.