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 ing into the heart of the other, each seeing the beginning of a new day.

"Child," his voice trembled dangerously, "I—I wonder if you care enough for me to—to—" but he could only look the question.

"To start all over again with you?" she whispered.

"Yes—to trust yourself to the prodigal who has returned. Without you, child, all the rest would be as the husks. Peggy, I want you—you! You do love me—I can see it in your eyes, I can feel it in your presence."

"How long you have been in realizing it," she said pensively as she stretched out her arms to him. For many minutes he held her close, finding a beautiful peace in the world again.

"How long have you really cared?" he asked in a whisper.

"Always, Monty; all my life."

"And I, too, child, all my life. I know it now; I've known it for months. Oh, what a fool I was to have wasted all this love of yours and all this love of mine. But I'll not be a profligate in love, Peggy. I'll not squander an atom of it, dear, not as long as I live."

"And we will build a greater love, Monty, as we build the new life together. We never can be poor while we have love as a treasure."