“Rufe Melton and my father and the desk—all yours?”
“And the baby, too, Pidge.”
“Dicky—Dicky—don’t dare to look! I’m going to cry!”
“... Since your telegram from San Francisco—it seemed I could hardly stay alive! Oh, it’s so good to rest!”
“Not a hurry in the world!”
“Everything seemed done—and no place for me!... Rufe and a rich girl uptown—oh, they’re in full blossom and he wants to be free! My father caught on in New York—no need now for me. The Public Square on the high road at last; your Amritsar story capturing the whole field; nothing to do but to feed the presses more and more; Miss Claes gone, and the Legacy—oh, Dicky, I saw your hand back of that! I couldn’t miss it. It touched me—touched me——”
“It was his idea first, Pidge. All I had to do was to help him carry it out.”
“All happened at once—all the strains lifted—no one depending—no one needing me!... I’ve been dying to be a woman just once. I’ve never dared—never had time. It’s so terrible to feel like a woman and not be able——”
“Why not now, Pidge?”
“Don’t think, Dicky! I’m just resting a little. We must work together a lot. We must clear our heads with stacks of work—and then maybe we’ll know if we can play.... Fanny Gallup did that for me, and Rufe Melton is as much a baby as his infant. Other girl, or not—Rufe will always need—us!”