“What you want now?” “You think too much about Albert. Too much to suit me.” “Albert makes me think. He’ll be back tomorrow for sure.” “He’s back today. He came back about one o’clock this evening to meet some men here from up the state. Town’s full of men from up around Fayette.” “Is he? A sudden change, a new plan. He talked to me last night. He was out at Johntown.” “It’s about time you thought about me a little.” “I think about you fifty times a day, Connie.” “Call it fifty.” Conway gathered into his unspecified vagueness and sat distraught in his chair, or he arose and stepped lightly about the room, moving a curtain here or drawing a bowl into the light of the setting sun, closing a shutter, pushing the chair of the blue brocade into the kindest manifestation of the light. “What’s the good of fifty? What kind of fifty.” “I think about you every time I think at all.” “If you marry Albert I’ll go off and never come back. This town, it’ll never see a sight of me again.” “I wouldn’t want you to go.” “Go, I will, you’ll see.” “Well.” “I’m like that. I couldn’t bear to see you marry Albert. I couldn’t bear it. I’ll go so far this town’ll never hear a buzz of me while time lasts.” “Marry? That’s a long way off. I wasn’t thinken about marry.” “Go I will. You’ll see. A long piece from here. You’re the only thing that keeps me here, you and my brother Reg.” Reg was a good friend, a fine boy, she admitted. She looked vaguely at the passing sunlight, speaking aimlessly of Reg. “I don’t care much for a whole mob of people. Don’t wish nobody no harm, but all the same ... I like you better’n anybody else on earth. I like a few people in a big way. You and Reg most. You most of all. It came to me about a month ago I liked you best, and nothing else I ever did in life amounted to a rap. It seems like nothing else I ever did mattered nohow. That’s how I look at it. I been studyen it out a right smart the last few weeks. Not one other God’s thing I ever done matters now. No matter what ’twas.” She arose quickly and walked toward the door. Albert would be coming then, soon, the day’s work over. Conway walked toward the door beside her. “Kiss me,” she said, leaning slightly near. “You will kiss me and go now. Albert will be here soon. I have to go on an errand for Grandfather. I don’t know what I’ll do. I haven’t been thinken about what you’re talken about. You kiss me. Good-bye, Connie.” * * * * *