"No."
"Judith, I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. How could I be so horrid? What made me? Did I hurt you, dear, with my hands?"
"You couldn't hurt me."
"Neil, you know what you said just now?"
"Never mind what I said."
"You said you didn't want anything to take me away from you. Well, if it did, if anything did take me away from you—now, I'd——"
"What, dear?"
"I'd never forgive you. I couldn't. I'd despise you." This warning came in a low, uncertain voice, wasted, as countless warnings have been wasted on wiser masculine ears than the boy's. "Look at our moon up there. It's glad, I guess—glad about you and me. Why don't you listen to me?"
"I'm thinking, Judith. I've got to think."