Her reasoning--though he was not worldly enough to call it feminine, and though it scarce tallied with her argument--seemed to him quite her own.
"How long have we ?" he said over his shoulder.

"The sun is yet five minutes up, or more," she said, a little breathlessly, for she saw his hand inside his coat, and guessed his purpose.
"But thee will not dare to play--thee will not dare," she said, but more as an invitation than a rebuke.

"Speech was denied me here, but not my music.

I find no sin in it." She eagerly watched him adjust the flute.

Suddenly she drew to him the chair from the doorway, and beckoned him to sit down.