“Yes, Rivers, many times.”
“Well, there were weeks when nothing mattered,” Larry went on, “and then I began to come around, but something in me was different. I wanted, God hearing me, Northrup, I wanted to make what that other chap had done for me––worth while.
“When I got to counting up what I’d gone through and holding to the new way I felt, I began to get well––and––then I came home. Came to my father’s house, Northrup––that’s what Mary-Clare said when she saw me.
“That’s what it is––my father’s house. You catch on?”
“Yes, Rivers, I catch on.” Then after a pause: “Let me light the lamp.” But Rivers caught hold of him.
“No, don’t waste time––they may come back at any moment––there’ll never be another chance.”
“All right, go on, Rivers.”
The soft autumn day was drawing to its close, but the west was still golden. The light fell on the two men near the window; one shivered.
“There isn’t much more to say. I wanted you to know that I’m not going to be in the way very long.