It had in it the male cadences of wooing music.
Rose stood still.
"Let us go in there a little while," whispered Horace.

Rose followed him into the room; he gave the door a little push.

It did not quite close, but nearly.

Horace placed a chair for Rose beside a window into which the moon was shining; then he drew up one beside it, but not very close.

He neither dared nor was sure that he desired.