"Don't most people, Jerry? It's the child in us clinging to what we know, I suppose."
"As the Bald One clings to my finger!"
"I still have packing to do. If you'll excuse me, I'll go right up."
"Good-night, Jane," he said steadily.
"Good-night, and thank you, Jerry."
"For what?"
"For understanding."
"But I don't. I don't understand anything about you. I don't know why you're going any more than I know where—but I'm trying to see that that doesn't make any difference, that it's your right to see this through your own way."
"Jerry, that's better than understanding, that's faith," she said softly, and left him pondering.