“I wonder what they were like. Nice old-fashioned souls, I suppose, good and simple and innocent, and not wicked in our modern ways.”
“I suppose not. But they didn’t get much out of life, I guess. They couldn’t have known what love was. They couldn’t have seen anybody down there as pretty as you are.”
“Don’t! Somebody might see you. It’s getting so dark you must drive me home. If Mamma knew I had been out here alone with you——!”
Still there was stealth in the world—joy to be stolen and turned into guilt, secrets to be cherished.
Keith helped Immy to her feet and they struggled toward the road out of the night up into the night.
In the sky to the south the sleepless torches of far-off New York were pallidly suspected. The waters below were black to their depths, save where the stars slept or twinkled as a ripple shook their reflection, or a fish, exploring its new sky, broke through into another world.
THE END.
Harper Fiction
THE VEHEMENT FLAME