Do you really wish it?
Well, then--for a day--if you ask me." Her ringed hand settled unconsciously into his again; she leaned back against the tree, and he rested his head beside hers.
"Are you afraid of wood-ticks, Mr.Hamil?
I am, horribly.

We're inviting all kinds of disaster--but isn't it delicious! Look at that whitish light above the trees.

When the moon outlines the roosting-tree we'll know whether our labour is lost.

But I wouldn't have missed it for all the mallard on Ruffle Lake.

Would you?
Are you contented ?" "Where you are is contentment, Shiela." "How nice of you! But there is always that sweet, old-fashioned, boyish streak in you which shows true colour when I test you.