"I mean, Joan, can't you steal in by the door ?" "It's better not," said Joan, one hand already on the vine.

"Hughie would scold if he knew.

For the wood is lonely.

And he would talk so much of rain and snow.

Now I can come and go as I please." She caught her cloak up and fastened it to insure the freedom of both her hands.
"Good night, Kenny," she said shyly.