The girl was in empty-minded enjoyment of the luxury of complete relaxation of every muscle of her strong young body.

The spring was noiseless, no leaf was astir in all the forest around them.

The girl lay still, a part of the vast quietness.
John Penhallow stood a moment, and then said, "Good gracious! Leila, your eyes are blue." It was true.

When big eyes are wide open staring up at the comrade blue of the deep blue sky, they win a certain beauty of added colour like little quiet lakelets under the azure sky when no wind disturbs their power of reflecting capture.
"Oh, John, and didn't you know my eyes were blue ?" She spoke with languid interest in the fact he announced.
"But," he said, looking down at her as he stood, "they're so--so very blue." "Oh, all the Greys have blue eyes." He laughed gentle laughter and dropped on the pine-needles of the forest floor.

The spring lay between them.