“But you are a Middle American farm boy. You have told me so, and I have learned it is true. I can be your friend, your partner, your mistress, but never, down inside you, anything more. Be honest.”
“I’m trying,” he said harshly.
“It would be worse for me,” Floris finished. “I would have to keep too much from you. I would feel I was betraying you. That makes no sense, no, but it is what I would feel. Manse, we had better not fall more in love. We had better say good-bye.”
They spent the next few hours together, talking. Then she laid her head on his breast, he hugged her for a minute, and he departed.
IV
Mary, mother of God, mother of sorrows, mother of salvation, be with us now and at the hour of our death.
Westward we sail, but night overtakes us. Watch over us through the dark and bring us on into day. Grant that this our ship bear the most precious of cargoes, your blessing.
Pure as yourself, your evenstar shines above the sunset. Guide us by your light. Lay your gentleness on the seas, breathe us forward in our faring and home again to our loves, carry us at last by your prayers into Heaven.
Ave Stella Maris!