She shook her head violently and then told him, “I am going away.”
“How long will you be gone?” He could not watch her averted face; but something told him that this was no ordinary trip.
“I can’t say, Joe. Perhaps always.”
As he watched the soft curls at the nape of her neck, the thought came to him that only owls and prairie dogs find lodgment in the same hole with a rattlesnake; whereupon the youth ceased to question and announced as a fact of noteworthy interest, “So long as nobody is dead, there is always a way to mend things.”
There was a suspicion of moisture in her eyes when she turned to him and said, “Joe Curtis, you are certainly a cheerful somebody.”
“Why shouldn’t I be? I might have been killed in the accident and I wasn’t. Now I’m nearly well.” Into his optimism came tenderness, as he whispered, “Best of all, I met you.”
“Was it worth it?” She was moody for the moment.
“You bet your life,” he exclaimed. “Aren’t you glad that you met me?”
Her eyes answered him.
After a moment, he went on. “Will you tell me where you are going, Virginia?”