"I'm talking rank nonsense! I'm a fool!"
"You are not!" The boy ran across to him impulsively; then paused, mute and shy.
"What is it, boy?"
"Only that what you say is not the truth. If you were to die, there is one person who would—"
Blake's face softened. He was surprised and touched.
"What? You'd care?"
Max nodded.
"Thank you, boy! Thank you for that!"
They stood silent for a moment, looking through the uncurtained window at the February breezes ruffling the holly bushes in the plantation, each unusually aware of the other's presence, each unusually self-conscious.
"But if it comes to pass—your miracle—you will forget me? You will no longer have need of me, is that not so?"