“Yes, Jerry.”
“I love you, Nan!” he said gently. “I wish you cared even a little bit.”
“It’s a good deal more than that, Jerry.”
He took her hands and kissed them. There was a great awe in his heart.
“Nan, this doesn’t seem right, you being you; and you know what I am!”
“I think I know what you are, Jerry,—you’re fine and loyal and good!”
“I’m going to try to be,” he said humbly.
“And you’ve helped me more than I could make you understand, from that very first day we met, when I hated myself so! You brought back the old days; everything that has happened since has made me think of you. You were the only person around here who really knew all about me—just what I came from, and all that. And it helped me to see how bravely you were fighting your own way up. I had the chance forced on me that you made for yourself. And I made a mess of everything! Oh, Jerry!”
She clung to him, crying. As he kissed away her tears, the touch of her wet cheek thrilled him....
“We mustn’t be so happy we can’t remember other people,” she said as they loitered hand in hand toward the house.