“My little girl,” he said, “don’t. God helping me, I’m going to get back. And you are going to light my way. Jane, do you know when I saw you coming towards me with that dim lantern it seemed symbolic. Hope held out to me—seen through a fog, faintly. But a light, nevertheless.”
“Oh, Evans, if I could love you, I would, you know that.”
“I know. You’d tie up the broken wings of every bird. You’d give crutches to the lame, and food to the hungry. And that’s the way you feel about me.”
He had let her go now, and they stood apart, shrouded in ghostly white.
“God helping me,” he said again, “I’ll get back. That’s a promise, Janey, and here’s my hand upon it.”
She gave him her hand. “God helping us both,” she said.
He lifted her hand and kissed it. Then, in silence, they walked on, until they reached the house....
The Towne car was waiting, and Mrs. Follette in a flurry welcomed them. “I don’t see why you didn’t ride over with him.”
“He hadn’t come, and we preferred to walk.”
“What was the matter with you, Evans?”