And then and there a miracle took place. Alan Massey who had never prayed in his life was praying to some God, somewhere to save John Massey for Tony because she loved him and his dying would hurt her. Tony must not be hurt. Any God could see that. It must not be permitted.
Tony put up her hand and brushed away the frosted silver drops.
"No, he isn't going to die. I'm not going to let him. I'm going to Mexico to save him."
Alan stopped short, pulling her to a halt beside him.
"Tony, you can't," he gasped, too astonished for a moment even to be angry.
"I can and I am going to," she defied him.
"But my dear, I tell you, you can't. It would be madness. Your uncle wouldn't let you. I won't let you."
"You can't stop me. Nobody can stop me. I'm going. Dick shan't die alone.
He shan't."
"Tony, do you love him?"
"I don't know. I don't want to talk about love—your kind. I do love him one way with all my heart. I wish it were the way I love you. I'd go down and marry him if I did. Maybe I'll marry him anyway. I would in a minute if it would save him."