"So you like us just a little bit after all?"
For the first time she gave up watching the dark and looked round at him out of grave eyes. He was startled at their solemnity and wondered what she was going to say. She laid a hand upon his arm.
"Jim, you and me are near come to the end of things, aren't we? You aren't always fretting to kiss me now as you was. I reckon soon you will be quite through with me."
"Molly!"
"Yes, it is true."
He said nothing, but presently he moved beside her and put an arm about her. She was staring into the dark again, and he laid his cheek against her cheek, and they looked together in the direction where the storm was rolling up.
"It is time to talk about things, Molly, and there is nobody to disturb us. When the rains come, this riding to and fro will have an end. What is to become of us all—tell me, child? Time never stops, you know. Life never stands still. And it looks, doesn't it, as if a man or woman can never go back, can never stay still even, but must go on? A long while now three men have come day by day to offer you all they have, but not to one of them have you yet nodded your head. I wish time knew how to stand still, so that we could have stayed as we are for ever, as though love like some enchanter had touched us with his wand; but time is in a hurry, and I think at last you must choose one of us and send the others gently about their business. Molly, whisper it. Who is it to be?"
"If you was a girl that lived alone all day with only an old dog as mate, you wouldn't find it easy to shake your head when a man said he liked you. Why are you always thinking and worrying so? Why don't you let things be?"
"It is time, it is not me, who won't let things stand still."
"Jim, talk straight with me. You are through with me, aren't you?"