If you go, be sure and come this way.

Your father went to Denver from here--have you heard from him ?" There was deep commotion in the trailer's brain that night.

The hope he had was too sacredly sweet to put into words--the hope that she still thought of him and longed for him.

If Jack were right, then she had waited and watched for him through all those years of wandering, while he, bitter and unrelenting, and believing that she was King's wife, had refused to listen for her voice on Sunday evenings.

If she had kept her promise, then on the trail, in canons dark and deathly still, on the moonlit sand of the Painted Desert, on the high divides of the Needle Range, her thought had been winged toward him in song--and he had not listened.
His thought turned now, for the first time, toward the great city, which was to him a savage jungle of unknown things, a web of wire, a maze of streets, a swirling flood of human beings, of interest now merely and solely because Mary had gone to live therein.