They ran past the gateway of Ripley Farmland Acres, and gazing at the little town, the thriving farms, and the twinkling lights scattered over the land that had been a desolate plain, she forgot his words in a thrill of pride. She had helped build these homes. When he spoke again she groped blindly for his allusion.
"I don't think you realize, Helen. I wish you wouldn't say things like that."
"Like what?"
"About the roadster. I wish you would say 'we' sometimes. Last night at the minister's you said, 'I think I'll buy a little farm and see what I can do with apricots.' I know you didn't realize how funny it sounded. It sort of hurts, you know."
"Oh, my dear!" Her cry of pain, her words of miserable apology, made even more clear to her the chasm between them. How could she apologize for this, a thing she had done without knowing she was doing it? Gray desolation choked her like a fog.
"All right. It's all right. I know you didn't mean to," he said cheerfully. He took one hand from the wheel to put an arm around her shoulders. "Never mind. You'll learn." His tone confidently took possession of her, and in a heartsickening flash she saw his hope of making her what he wanted his wife to be. She felt his hand upon her tastes, her thoughts, her self, trying to reshape them to his ideal of her. "You suit me, sweetheart. I know what you are, my wonderful girl!"
Her heart stopped, and she felt that her lips were cold under his forgiving kiss. He talked happily while they swept on through the gathering darkness, and she responded in tones that sounded strange to her. Mysterious darkness covered the wide level land, farm-house windows glowed warmly yellow through it, and a great moon, rising slowly over the far hills, flooded the sky with pale light and put out the stars. At last they rode into Ripley, past the piles of raw lumber and stone that were to be their bungalow, and down the quiet street. The wheels crunched the gravel of the driveway. Paul's warm hand clasped hers, and she stumbled from the running-board into his arms. His lips were close against his cheek.
"Love me, sweetheart? Tell me. It's been a long, long time since you said it." She stood rigid, voiceless. "Please?"
In a passion of pity and wild pain she held him close, lifting her face to his kiss in the darkness. She felt that her heart was breaking.
"You do," he said in deep content. "My dear, my dear!"