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“But there is nothing to forgive,” he assured her.
They went away hand in hand, happy, like two dazed children for whom the sky has suddenly but not—because they are young—too miraculously opened, and the shrubbery swallowed them.
He turned and strode back into the shadow. Mrs. Leroy sat crouching on the fallen timber, her head still bent. Stooping behind her, he drew her toward him.
“They have forgotten us by now,” he whispered, “can I make you forget them?”
