“Thorn!”
“Yes.”
She hung back a little from him, reading the forethought and trouble in his eyes, and the tired yet generous calm of a man thinking of others rather than himself.
“You are troubled, John. Tell me.”
He looked down at her reflectively, and his eyes seemed to say: “Shall I or shall I not?” Womanwise, she appeared to understand.
“You are afraid for my sake, John.”
“A little.”
“Is it because you cannot trust me?”
Her eyes held his, and for once it was as though she had the greater power of will.
“No. Because I wish worry and care away.”