"Where will you go?"
"The Rosenfelds are rather in straits. I thought of helping them to get a
small house somewhere and of taking a room with them. It's largely a matter
of furniture. If they could furnish it even plainly, it could be done.
I--haven't saved anything."
"Do you ever think of yourself?" she cried. "Have you always gone through
life helping people, K.? Save anything! I should think not! You spend it
all on others." She bent over and put her hand on his shoulder. "It will
not be home without you, K."
To save him, he could not have spoken just then. A riot of rebellion
surged up in him, that he must let this best thing in his life go out of
it. To go empty of heart through the rest of his days, while his very arms
ached to hold her! And she was so near--just above, with her hand on his
shoulder, her wistful face so close that, without moving, he could have
brushed her hair.
"You have not wished me happiness, K. Do you remember, when I was going to
the hospital and you gave me the little watch--do you remember what you
said?"
"Yes"--huskily.
"Will you say it again?"
"But that was good-bye."
"Isn't this, in a way? You are going to leave us, and I--say it, K."
"Good-bye, dear, and--God bless you."