Those were her very words.
"Thank you," said the Disagreeable Man. "And G.o.d bless you for telling me."
Then he added:
"There were some few loose sheets of paper on the counter. She had begun her book. May I have them?"
Zerviah placed them in his hand.
"And this photograph," the old man said kindly. "I will spare it for you."
The picture of the little thin eager face was folded up with the papers.
The two men parted.
Zerviah Holme went back to his Roman History. The Disagreeable Man went back to the mountains: to live his life out there, and to build his bridge, as we all do, whether consciously or unconsciously. If it breaks down, we build it again.
"We will build it stronger this time," we say to ourselves.
So we begin once more.
We are very patient.
And meanwhile the years pa.s.s.
THE END