She reached on tiptoe and plucked two apples from the old tree. She gave one to me.
“An apple of gold from the only woman in the world,” I said.
“Don’t say ‘gold’ to me, Ross! Don’t! A boy of your age with half a million safe in the bank—”
There was my news at last! I kissed the lips which told me!
Then, eating the sweet fruit of our new knowledge of life and of each other, we went on our way up through the whispering trees toward the welcoming, glowing windows of the old tavern.