"Well, I don't want it. Good-night!"
She put out her hand. He took it and held it. The moonlight now was very bright, but not bright enough to reveal his smile or her blush. However, neither could be hidden from the second sight of love. "Don't go yet, Debbie. I never get a word with you these days, you are so taken up with all sorts of people. And you haven't had time to get cool yet. I know you haven't—by the feel of your hand."
She tried to withdraw it, but did not try very hard.
"My dear boy," she trembled, "do you know what time it is? It must be simply ALL hours."
"What does that matter? We are not keeping anybody up." "And there's tomorrow to be considered. Christmas Eve is always such a busy, tiring—"
"Sufficient for the day. Let us take things as we can get them. Besides, you will sleep all the better for it. Five minutes more or less—"
He pulled gently but firmly at the imprisoned hand. "Well, just five minutes—although it's really—"
She was drawn down to the bench beside him, and the man in the moon, as he looked into their shining, happy eyes, seemed to wink knowingly.
"Oh, Debbie, isn't it a heavenly night? Oh, Debbie!" His arms went round her, and she simply melted into them. "Oh, my love!..."
Five minutes! It ran to an hour and a half before she scudded across the lawn to bed.