“Oh,” she said, “these haven't even been touched.” Again Hale smiled but he said nothing. One glance had told him there were things in that drawer too sacred for his big hands.
“I'm so happy—so happy.”
Suddenly she looked him over from head to foot—his rough riding boots, old riding breeches and blue flannel shirt.
“I am pretty rough,” he said. She flushed, shook her head and looked down at her smart cloth suit of black.
“Oh, you are all right—but you must go out now, just for a little while.”
“What are you up to, little girl?”
“How I love to hear that again!”
“Aren't you afraid I'll run away?” he said at the door.
“I'm not afraid of anything else in this world any more.”
“Well, I won't.”