"Do you mean," she demanded, "that you don't remember that a brazen,
forward girl told you, when you hadn't asked her, that she"--the
Angel choked on it a second, but she gave a gulp and brought it out
bravely--"that she loved you?"
"No!" cried Freckles. "No! I don't remember anything of the kind!"
But all the songbirds of his soul burst into melody over that one little
clause: "When you hadn't asked her."
"But you will," said the Angel. "You may live to be an old, old man, and
then you will."
"I will not!" cried Freckles. "How can you think it, Angel?"
"You won't even LOOK as if you remember?"
"I will not!" persisted Freckles. "I'll be swearing to it if you want me
to. If you wasn't too tired to think this thing out straight, you'd be
seeing that I couldn't--that I just simply couldn't! I'd rather give it
all up now and go into eternity alone, without ever seeing a soul of me
same blood, or me home, or hearing another man call me by the name I was
born to, than to remember anything that would be hurting you, Angel.
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