"And longer still," she pleaded.
"And longer still," he whispered in the wind. "Even until the blossom falls."
Ah, it was good to be alive with such an age of happiness before them!
He felt the tears in her voice, however; he knew there was something that she longed to tell.
"What is your sadness?" he asked softly, "and why do you put such questions to me now? What is your little trouble?"
A moment's hesitation, a moment's hanging of the graceful head the width of a petal's top nearer to his shoulder—and then she told him.
"I was in darkness for a time," she faltered, "but it was a long, long time. It seemed that something came between us. I lost your face. I felt afraid."
And his laughter—for just then a puff of wind passed by and shook his sides for him—ran across many feet of lawn.
"It was a Bumble Bee," he comforted her. "It came between us for a bit, its shadow fell upon you, nothing more! Such things will happen; we must be prepared for them. It was nothing in myself that dimmed your world."
"Another time I will be braver, then," she told him, "and even in the darkness I shall know you close, ah, very close to me…."