"Dear, I wanted to come. I couldn't stay away. And it wasn't because you gave me a choice. Won't you believe that, David?" "I believe that, Shirley." "You only said, 'Come.' Don't you really want me? Do you think that after a while, when I've learned all I have to learn--and proved what I have to prove--you will be glad that I came?" "I am glad now." He touched the pretty gleaming hair caressingly. "I believe you are! And they said--oh, David!" She caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek. Then he saw that she had come to the threshold of her house of toys and stood looking out, trembling and frightened before the bigness of the real world. He was staggered by that. She had come to the door too late; for if she fared forth, she must go alone and untaught through a country whose loneliness he had known. He must save her from that. He could not give her the one thing which could companion her through those arid wastes. The tender protective impulse surged stronger to his aid. Gently he sought to lead her back into her playhouse. "Shirley, I have a confession to make. While you were gone St. Mark's decided to build. I submitted some plans and--they were accepted. Do you like my surprise?" "Then you can go back to your profession. I am glad of that." "It's a big commission, Shirley. Almost as big as St. Christopher's would have been. We'll be rolling in wealth--for us." "You won't have to worry any more. I am glad of that, too." She was resisting, looking back toward the still open door and the prospect beyond. It had frightened her, but it had thrilled her, too. Anxiously he pointed inward. "It means more than that. If I've done pretty well--and I'm sure I have--it will bring a lot more work. We can have all the things our mouths used to water for. We'll move into a very nice apartment at once, and have a maid, maybe a nurse for Davy Junior. We'll take on the club again--think of hearing the crack of a good drive once more! There'll be theaters and concerts, with a taxi on rainy evenings. And when we're settled in that new apartment we're going to give a beautiful dinner to celebrate our return to the surface. My stars! can't you see our guests' eyes popping? And when the first check comes in from the St. Mark's people I'm going to buy you--let's see, what _shall_ I buy you?-- Pinch me, please. When I think of it I can't quite realize that it's true. Isn't it bully, Shirley--dear?" "Of course," she said slowly. "But somehow those things--they seem so--so little, now I have you back. Do they really mean so much to you, David?" "You've come back--that's the great thing, of course. And there'll be no worries to make things hard for us, no penny-pinching and discontent, no--misunderstandings. Don't you see? It's the whole thing. And so--" He tried to laugh gaily, but an echo was in his heart. "And so the story ends happily."