Remember, Ruth, that awful black month and what we suffered together.

And you knew nothing about me.

I just found you sitting on the stairs with your broken stick, waiting for some one to come and help you." She nodded.
"And you picked me up and carried me into your room," she reminded him.

"You didn't have to stop and take breath as Isaac has to." "Why, no," he admitted, "I couldn't say you were heavy, dear.

Some day or other, though," he added, "you will be.