"Never is a long time—little sister."
"But I should be afraid."
"Not with me."
Silence.
"Not with me." He came around so that he could look into her face. "Would you be afraid with me?"
She knew that she would not. She had not been afraid in the storm. But these things were not to be told.
She did not meet his eyes, but shook her head.
He was struck by her troubled look.
"Tired—little sister?" he asked.
Her lips quivered. "Very tired."