“Don't--pal, I'm a brute, I guess, like all the rest of the male humans. I don't mean to be--it's the way I'm made. When a woman means so much to me that I can't think of anything else, day or night, and get to counting days and scheming to see her--why--being friends--like we've been--is like giving a man a teaspoon of milk and water when he's starving to death, and thinking that oughta do. But I shouldn't have let it hurt you. I tried to stand for it, little woman. These were times when I just had to fight myself not to take you up in my arms and carry you of and keep you. You must admit,” he argued, smiling rather wanly, “that, considering how I've felt about it, I've done pretty tolerable well up till now. You don't--you never will know how much it's cost. Why, my nerves are getting so raw I can't stand anything any more. That's why I'm going. I don't want to hang around till I do something--foolish.”
He took his arm away from her shoulders and moved farther off; he was not sure how far he might trust himself.
“If I thought you cared--or if there was anything I could do for you,” he ventured, after a moment, “why, it would be different. But--”
“There is something--or there was--or--oh, I can't think any more! I suppose”--doubtfully--“if you feel as you say you do, why--it would be--wicked to stay. But you don't; you must just imagine it.”
“Oh, all right,” Kent interpolated ironically.
“But if you go away--” She got up and stood before him, breathing unevenly, in little gasps. “Oh, you mustn't go away! Please don't go! I--there's something terrible happened--oh, Kent, I need you! I can't tell you what it is--it's the most horrible thing I ever heard of! You can't imagine anything more horrible, Kent!”
She twisted her fingers together nervously, and the blossoms dropped, one by one, on the ground. “If you go,” she pleaded, “I won't have a friend in the country, not a real friend. And--and I never needed a friend as much as I do now, and you mustn't go. I--I can't let you go!” It was like her hysterical fear of being left alone after the fire.
Kent eyed her keenly. He knew there must have been something to put her into this state--something more than his own rebellion. He felt suddenly ashamed of his weakness in giving way--in telling her how it was with him. The faint, far-off chuckle of a wagon came to his ears. He turned impatiently toward the sound. Polycarp was driving up the coulee with a load of wood; already he was nearing the gate which opened into the lower field. Kent stood up, reached out, and caught Val by the hand.