They were alone and free to speak their most important words.

Harold seized upon the opportunity with most disconcerting directness.
"I've come for you, Mary," he said, as if he had not hitherto uttered a word, and his voice aroused some mysterious vibration within her bosom.
"I'm not a cattle king; I have nothing but two horses, a couple of guns, and a saddle--but all the same, here I am.

I got lonesome for you, and at last I took the back trail to find out whether you had forgot me or not." His pause seemed to require an answer and her lips were dry as she said in a low voice, "No, I did not forget, but I thought you had forgotten _me_." "A man don't forget such a girl as you are, Mary.

You were in my mind all the time.

Your singing did more for me than anything else.