" 'Don't worry so, Johnny. I like to do things for you...' It was the wrong approach. She knew it immediately by the cold way he looked away from her. He was all ready to go. The easel was under one arm. Suddenly she couldn't think about what she should have done. There was no right or wrong way to act, there was only one way. She ran to him and pulled him down toward her. Her fingers bit into his arms. 'No, no,' she murmured brokenly. 'You mustn't go. You can't. I couldn't live...'".