nking
what I was crawling back to--and counting the chances and whether it
was worth while."

"Please, Larry!"

"All right!" Then, in the new voice: "You're beautiful, Mary-Clare.
Sometimes, sitting here, I get to wondering if I really ever saw you
before. Second sight, you know."

"Yes, second sight, Larry."

"And Noreen--she is mine, Mary-Clare." This was flung out defiantly.

"Part yours. Yes, Larry."

"She's a great kid. Old as the hills and then again--a baby-thing."

"We must not strain her, Larry, we cannot afford to put too heavy a
load on her. She would bear it until she dropped."

"Don't get talking booky, Mary-Clare. You don't as much as you once
did." A pause, then hardly above a whisper: "Do you go to the cabin in
the woods now, Mary-Clare?"

"I haven't been there for a long while, Larry." Mary-Clare's hands
clutched each other until the bones ached.

"I'm sorry, Mary-Clare, God knows I am, for what I did up there. It
was the note as drove me mad. Across--over there, I used to read that
note, you and he were queer lots."

"Larry, I will not talk about that--ever!"

"You can't forgive?"

"I have forgiven long ago."

"Nothing happened between you and him, Mary-Clare. You're great stuff.
Great! And so is he."

A thin, blue-veined hand stole out and rested on Mary-Clare's head and
Mary-Clare looked down at the empty place where Larry's strong right
leg should have been. A divine pity stirred her, but she knew now, as
always, that Larry did not crave pity; sympathy; and the awful Truth
upheld Mary-Clare in her weak moment. She would never again fail
herself or him by misunderstanding.

"When I'm well, Mary-Clare, you'll be everything to me, won't you?
We'll begin again. You, me, and little Noreen. You are lovely, girl!
The lights in your hair dance, your neck is white, and----"

The heart of Mary-Clare seemed to stop as the groping fingers touched
her.

"Look at me, Mary-Clare!"

There was the tone of the conqueror in the words--Larry laughed. Then
Mary-Clare looked at him! Long and unfalteringly she let her eyes meet
his, and there was that in them that no man misunderstands.

"You mean you do not care?" Larry's voice shook like a frightened
child's; "that you'll never care?"

"I care tremendously, Larry, and I will do my best. But you must not
ask for more."

"Good God! and I crawled back for this!" The words ended in a sob;
"for this! I thought I could pay but I cannot--ever, ev