"Just as much."
"More, Ann?"
"Maybe."
"Then . . . will you? Say, will you, Ann?"
"I don't know, Tom. Don't ask me. Please."
"But I've got to ask you," he cried.
"Oh, what's the good." And she looked away, to where the faint light of the lantern fled along beside them, over the trees.
"Is it," he said slowly, "is it no?"
"Well, then—no."
Thomas was silent. At last he asked, "Is it a living man, Ann?"