"Yes."
"And why, please?"
"You've already told me why."
"That's right," meditatively. "I'd forgotten. We were going to be ourselves, our natural worst selves, to-day."
"I'm still listening."
"You're patient. What do you most wish to know?"
"Most? The thing most essential, of course. Do you love your husband? You're unhappy, I know. Is that the reason?"
The girl looked out, out over the prairies, meditatively, impassively. Far in the distance, indistinguishable to an untrained eye, a black dot stood out above the horizon line. Her eyes paused upon it.
"You'll never tell anyone if I answer?" she asked suddenly.
"Never, Bess."