And it's thinking about it that does it.

Now, mine wouldn't make yours shine, but--still,"-- he broke off, a happy relief in his eyes,--"yours could be LIKE mine, in one way.

Mine is something that is going to happen to me--something just beautiful; and you could have that, you know,--something that was going to happen to you, to think about." Miss Holbrook smiled, but only with her lips, Her eyes had grown somber.
"But there isn't anything 'just beautiful' going to happen to me, David," she demurred.
"There could, couldn't there ?" Miss Holbrook bit, her lip; then she gave an odd little laugh that seemed, in some way, to go with the swift red that had come to her cheeks.
"I used to think there could--once," she admitted; "but I've given that up long ago.

It--it didn't happen." "But couldn't you just THINK it was going to ?" persisted the boy.

"You see I found out yesterday that it's the THINKING that does it.