“There’s never been any woman but you in my life. Even when you were a li’l trick and I bought that first doll for you—even then I was getting ready to love you and didn’t know it.”
“I’ve got that doll yet. It’s the dearest doll,” she said softly, the adjective flashing out as words were wont to do in her childhood.
He smiled. “And the black doll—have you that?”
“Yes, I have that, too. I just loved the boy that sent it to me.”
“Do you love the man he’s grown into, Vicky?”
“Yes.” She said it bravely, without any pretense of doubt. She was proud of her love. The truth was too fine to cloud with any feminine sinuosities.
He drew a deep long breath of joy. His dreams had come true.
With the stars as witnesses they plighted troth to each other.
THE END