From the nature of their employment, in which he handled the spade and she merely held the tree, it followed that he got good exercise and she got none.

But she was an heroic girl, and though her out-stretched hand was chill as a stone, and her cheeks blue, and her cold worse than ever, she would not complain while he was disposed to continue work.

But when he paused she said, "Mr.Winterborne, can I run down the lane and back to warm my feet ?" "Why, yes, of course," he said, awakening anew to her existence.
"Though I was just thinking what a mild day it is for the season.

Now I warrant that cold of yours is twice as bad as it was.

You had no business to chop that hair off, Marty; it serves you almost right.
Look here, cut off home at once." "A run down the lane will be quite enough." "No, it won't.