"No, dear; we'll never forget."
"Let's remember, then," said Susan; "remember all we can."
For a long hour thereafter we rather mused together than conversed. Constraint slipped from us, as those we had best loved came back to us, warm and near and living in our thoughts of them. No taint of false sentiment, of sorrow willfully indulged, marred these memories. Trying to be happy we had failed; now, strangely, we came near to joy.
"We haven't lost them!" exclaimed Susan. "Not any part of them; we never can."
"They haven't lost us, then?"
"No"—she pondered it—"they haven't lost us."
"You mean it, Susan—literally? You believe they still live—out there?"
"And you?"
"I don't know."
"Poor Ambo," murmured Susan; then, with a quick, dancing gleam: "But as Jimmy'd say, dear, you can just take it from me!"