"She's a cat, sure-ly."
The night air, the thronged and brilliant sky, the rare change, the little bit of holiday, inspired and stimulated her. The Martha of much busyness had given place to the girl again. Immersed in the splendid darkness, she was in a delicious mood, cool, provocative, ironical; as Ernie had known her in that brief April of her life before Captain Royal had thrown a shadow across her path.
He threaded his arm through hers. Together they climbed the little Wish hill on the sea-front. From the top, by the old martello tower, they looked across the sea, white beneath the moon. Ernie's mood of high statesmanship had passed already.
"I don't see this Creeping Death they talk on," he said discontentedly.
"Ah," Ruth answered, sagacious in her turn. "Hap it's there though."
Ernie turned on her.
"I thart you just said..."
"No, I didn't then," she answered with magnificent unconcern. "All I say is—War and that, what's it got to do wi' we?"
As they came off the hill they met Colonel and Mrs. Lewknor crossing Madeira Walk on their way home.
"Where's your friend?" asked the Colonel.