‘If they did—I don’t see how they could ever go apart.’
Lights of Tucson, streets. The amazement that he knew now, was that she had kept on steadily driving.... ‘You are something—I must be—’ Had she said that, or had he? Had it really been spoken at all? And the car hadn’t halted a moment.
‘But we must never stop—no matter how wonderful it is—and say “This is it,”’ she repeated. ‘We must always keep on and on—’
‘It’s so very much—right now—’
‘I know—I know it is—but don’t ever let me stop and say: “We’ve found it.”’
The car drew up at the curb of the Santa Clara.
‘To-morrow. Luncheon. I’ll come at twelve—right here.’
Then he stood upon the pavement, differently alone.