Carol went ahead. They had to pick their way carefully or sink ankle-deep in mire. The town still slept but it had changed somehow. It had changed.
No further word was spoken until the Cuttner gate.
The girl shuddered when with a proprietary right the boy took her in his arms for the final embrace.
“Oh, Natie!” she cried huskily, “you’ll never, never know!”
“Know what, dear?”
“I can’t tell you! You wouldn’t understand. Good-by, dear! It’s—it’s getting light and some of the neighbors might see us.”
She had never remarked upon this before.
“When will you be leaving, dear?” he asked when he could trust himself to speak.
“On the eleven o’clock, probably.” It was a spiritless answer. “There’s no use for me waiting around—if I’m really going.”
“But, Carrie! Don’t take it that way! Don’t act as if I were sending you off.”