“When I am gone there will be no one to care–but you.” She fought back the tears and put up a brave front. “Good bye, Joe.”
“Wait a minute,” he commanded.
She reached for his hand and repeated, very sweetly, very softly, “Good bye, Joe.” She moved away a few steps; but turned back to cry very tenderly, “Good bye, Joe.”
“Come back, please, Virginia,” wailed Joe.
She hesitated, battling with tears.
“Please, come back, Virginia. Remember, I am helpless. I can’t come after you.”
She retraced her steps. “What is it?” she asked, her averted gaze apparently interested in the street beyond the grounds.
“Perhaps this is not good bye.”
She looked at him now with great interest.
He seized her hand and drew her closer to the chair, smiling up into her face, as he explained, “It may not be good bye for us, because–if I were quite sure that you wanted to see me–I might come up to Old Rock.”