"My sweet, my sweet, my beautiful, my little wonder-woman!" he breathed. "Did you think I could live without you?"
She was leaning, half fainting, against his breast, like a wind-blown flower.
"I've come for you," he said hoarsely. "Dearest, sweetest Jinnie!"
She pressed backward, loyalty for another woman rising within her.
"But Molly, Molly the Merry----" she breathed.
Theodore shook his head.
"I only know I love you, sweetheart, that I've come for you," and as his lips met hers, Jinnie clung to him, a very sweet young thing, and between those warm, passionate kisses she heard him murmur: "God made you mine, littlest love!"
And so they went forth from the lonely farmhouse, with none but the cobbler's angels watching over them.