Gaylord's head and shoulders across his knees and in his arms. He pushed back the hair still bound around the forehead and drew him close as if trying to protect him from the driving rain.
"Bob … Oh, Bob."
"I'm here," Blake cried and kissed the quivering lips. "Your Bob's here … don't cry, darling."
"I love you so much, Bob … so much." Gaylord's hands drew Blake closer. "I don't know why I did this … I don't, really."
"It's my fault." Blake drew him closer. "I'm a fool."
"I'm the fool … it isn't your fault."
"Come on, Gay … let's go to the car. You're shaking like a leaf."
"Please forgive me."
"There's nothing for me to forgive … but you know I do if you say so."
Blake got up heavily and drew Gaylord up, stood with his arms around the shaking boy. He was held by the thing that he could not name. It had held him from the first meeting in the gymnasium; the sense of mystery and emotion and desire in this boy. I do love him, he thought. You clumsy fool, you do love him. "Are you all right now?" he asked.
"I'm all right … awfully tired and weak," Gaylord confessed. "I'm so sorry." And after a moment, he said, "I'm all right now." He did feel better with the arms around him. His hands came up slowly and clenched themselves upon Blake's soaked shoulders. "Oh … Bob," he sobbed and lay his head on the heaving chest.
They stood there and stared blindly into each other's face, their separate breathing coming quick and jerky. Above, the flashes of lightning and the distant thunder shook about them in the glistening night.
"Let's go to the car, Gay," Blake repeated. "You're cold. You're shaking like a leaf."
Before Gaylord moved, he said, "Will you please forgive me?"
Blake kissed him. "You know I'd forgive you anything … come on … let's go to the car."
"All right," Gaylord panted breathlessly.
The black outline of the woods dropped behind them and with
