But it was such a narrow sunny path; there was not room for two.
So Katie made room for him by stepping part way out of the sunshine herself. Smiling, but eyes speaking for the depth of the meaning, she said: "I'd rather be only half in the sunshine than be—"
"Be what, Katie?" he whispered.
"Be without you."
"Katie," he asked passionately, "you mean that if walking together we can't always be all in the sunshine—?"
"The thing that matters," said Katie, "is walking together."
"Over roads where there might be no sunshine? Rough, steep roads, perhaps?"
"Whatever kind, of roads they may be," said Katie, with the steadiness and the fervor of a devotee repeating a prayer.
They stood there as shadows lengthened across sunny paths, thinking of the years behind and the years ahead, now speaking of what they would do, now folded in exquisite silences.
And after the fashion of happy lovers who must hover around calamities averted, he exclaimed: "Suppose Ann had never come!"