We'll--we'll read Dickens this
winter!"
Nancy gave a laugh that was half a sob.
"Bert--we were always going to read Dickens! Do you remember?"
"Do I remember!" He smoked for a while in silence. Then he
chuckled. "Do you remember the Sunday breakfasts in the East
Eleventh Street flat? With real cream and corn bread? Do you
remember wheeling Junior through the park?"
Nancy cleared her throat.
"I remember it all!"
There was another silence. Then Bert straightened suddenly, and
asked with concern:
"Nancy--what is it? You're all tired out, you poor little girl.
Don't, dear--don't cry, Nancy!"
Nancy, groping for his handkerchief, battling with tears, feeling
his kiss on her wet cheek, laughed shakily in the dark.
"I--I can't help it, Bert!" said she. "I'm--I'm so happy!"
THE END
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