Not a handsome
face, like Jerry's, not fine and pure, like David's,--but strong and
kind, a face that somehow spoke wistfully of deep needs and secret
longings. Suddenly Connie felt that she was very happy, and in the
same instant discovered that her eyes were wet. She smiled.
"Connie," whispered the big brown man, "are we going to get married,
sometime?"
"Yes," she whispered promptly, "sometime. If you want me."
His hands closed convulsively over hers.
"Make it soon," he begged. "It is terribly lonesome."
"Two years," she suggested, wrinkling her brows. "But if it is too
lonesome, we will make it one."
"You won't go away." Prince was aghast at the thought.
"I have to," she told him, caressing his hand with her fingers. "You
know I believe I have a talent, and it says in the Bible if you do not
use what is given you, all the other nice things you have may be taken
away. So if I don't use that talent, I may lose it and you into the
bargain."
Prince did not understand that, but it sounded reasonable. Whatever
Connie said, of course. She had a talent, all right, a dozen,--a
hundred of them. He thought she had a monopoly on talents.
"I will go back a while and study and work and get ready to use the
talent.
Pages:
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256