"How ?" "Done for as far as you are concerned." "I?
Why how, and with what am I concerned, Sandy?
I don't understand you." But he only turned red and muttered to himself and strolled about with his hands in his pockets, kicking the dead leaves as though he expected to find something astonishing under them.

And Stephanie glanced at him sideways once or twice, thoughtfully, curiously, but questioned him no further.
Gordon Collis pottered about in a neighbouring thicket; the fox terrier was chasing chipmunks.

As for Neville he had already sauntered out of sight among the trees.
Stephanie, seated on a dry and mossy stump, preoccupied with her own ruminations, looked up absently as Cameron came up to her bearing floral offerings.
"Thank you, Sandy," she said, as he handed her a cluster of wild blossoms.

Then, fastening them to her waist, she glanced up mischieviously: "How funny you are! You look and act like a little boy at a party presenting his first offering to the eternal feminine." "It's my first offering," he said coolly.
"Oh, Sandy! With _your_ devilish record!" "Do you know," he said, "that I'm thirty-two years old?
And that you are twenty-two?
And that since you were twelve and I was twenty odd I've been in love with you ?" She looked at him in blank dismay for a moment, then forced a laugh: "Of course I know it, Sandy.

It's the kind of love a girl cares most about--" "It's really love," said Cameron, un-smiling--"the kind I'm afraid she doesn't care very much about." [Illustration: "'If you'll place a lump of sugar on my nose, and say "when," I'll perform.'"] She hesitated, then met his gaze with a distressed smile: "You don't really mean that, Sandy--" "I've meant it for ten years....