When the music stopped, they followed in the train of other couples seeking the coolness of out-of-doors for the interval, and Tom, in his soul, laughed at all other men with illimitable condescension.
"Stop here," she said, as they reached the open gate.

He was walking out of it, his head in the air, and Miss Betty on his arm.

Apparently, he would have walked straight across the State.

It was the happiest moment he had ever known.
He wanted to say something wonderful to her; his speech should be like the music and glory and lire that was in him; therefore he was shocked to hear himself remarking, with an inanity of utterance that sickened him: "Oh, here's the gate, isn't it ?" Her answer was a short laugh.

"You mean you wish to persuade me that you had forgotten it was there ?" "I did not see it," he protested, lamentably.
"No ?" "I wasn't thinking of it." "Indeed! You were 'lost in thoughts of '-- " "Of you!" he said, before he could check himself.
"Yes ?" Her tone was as quietly contemptuous as she could make it.