`` I have thought about you every hour -- but I feared to intrude . '' '' You could n't intrude , '' she said gently . `` Yes , I have wanted to see you , Jeff . Come into the library . '' He followed her into the room where they had always sat in his rare calls . Sara lighted the lamp on the table . As the light shot up she stood clearly revealed in it -- a tall , slender woman in a trailing gown of grey . Even a stranger , not knowing her age , would have guessed it to be what it was , yet it would have been hard to say what gave the impression of maturity . Her face was quite unlined -- a little pale , perhaps , with more finely cut outlines than those of youth . Her eyes were clear and bright ; her abundant brown hair waved back from her face in the same curves that Jeffrey had noted in the purple-gowned child of six , under the pines . Perhaps it was the fine patience and serenity in her face that told her tale of years . Youth can never acquire it . Her eyes brightened when she saw the mayflowers he carried . She came and took them from him , and her hands touched his , sending a little thrill of joy through him . `` How lovely they are ! And the first I have seen this spring . You always bring me the first , do n't you , Jeff ? Do you remember the first day we spent picking mayflowers together ? '' Jeff smiled . Could he forget ?
But something held him back XXXXX speech .
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