She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. She pulled away from him, placing her fingers on his lips for a moment. ” She stood up and held her arms toward him. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. She leaned back in her chair.
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