"I can understand that," said Quent.
Somewhere a blare of sound began. Out on the bay ships commenced to blow their whistles, while all the fog horns snorted. All about them San Francisco—much of it seeming so dead and so dark— erupted into an ecstasy of greeting to the new year. Fire and earthquake were behind, an exciting future lay ahead. What else could you do but yell and whistle and pound your neighbor on the back?
Quent's arm came about her. "Happy New Year, Melora."
She looked at him, her eyes shining. But before she could repeat the greeting he bent to kiss her.
"The fire brought some good things," he said. "It showed me what Melora Cranby was like, for instance. Do you suppose a lady with blue hair could be persuaded to put on my ring again? And not in make-believe this time?"
His arms about her felt as they should. There was no doubting now, just this sense of deep and wonderful contentment.
"My finger has felt empty without it," she said.
He had it in his pocket and she knew then that he had planned something like this from the start. Even when he had looked at her so guardedly as she came down the stairs tonight, he must have had this in mind. He hadn't been sure then, had not wanted to betray his own feelings—had just waited to see.
The ring slipped on her finger as if it belonged. You could grow into loving a person almost without recognizing what was happening. Perhaps growing into love was the only sure way.
"There'll be a commotion when we go back and tell them," Quent said, laughing a little, remembering other commotions.
"But a pleasant one for once," she said. "Mama will be tickled pink and so will Papa and your father. Even Quong Sam will approve of me."
They went back to the cabby, drowsing on the seat as he waited for his peculiar passengers to return. Quent woke him and they got in, giving the address on Washington Street. They'd be going back to the supper party now, and they'd probably find Cora and Harry already there.
It was fun to be kissed again in the cab, and a little surprising too. Because Quent had been here all along and she hadn't looked his way. Yet now—
"We'll not have much to start off with you know, young woman," he told her. "The Seymour fortune is gone."
"We'll manage," Melora assured him. "We don't need Nob Hill. And I'll work hard at my writing.
After all, we're the new pioneers. And when did pioneers have things made easy for them?"
The cab jogged along toward home and into the year of 1907.
Table of Contents
A DIAMOND SOLITAIRE
THE FLAMING CITY
THE GOLDEN FACE OF RWAN YIN
REFUGEES
THE BONNER HOUSE
BREATH OF ROSES
CITY OF ASHES
"HOW DO YOU KNOW?"
"LETS GET GOING!"
OUT OF A TRUNK
BREADLINE
STEPS TO NOWHERE
SIXTH SON
THE LETTER
BILLOWING SAILS
ON TELEGRAPH HILL
TONY
A CHANCE FOR TONY
MOMENTUM
BACKSTAGE
A LADY WITH BLUE HAIR
The fire and the gold Page 19
