"Did I tell you so?"
He weakened a little.
"N-no! But she said you'd been down talkin' it over an' Oliver'd gone to ketch the colt. She offered me the spy-glass."
Isabel's lips had a little line of white about them. She looked full at him now.
"Take it? No!" he roared at her. "Do you think I'd do a thing like that?"
They stood looking at each other, glance holding glance, their eyes blazing. Suddenly he threw the rake as if he had been throwing down a shield and held out his arms to her. Isabel walked into them, and while they kissed, her father's straw hat slipped back over her shoulders, and she laughed and never missed the fluffy headgear lying in her room upstairs, waiting for Poole's Woods. Suddenly she remembered that they were out in the broad sunlight, in sight of the road, and then she bethought her that all the town had gone to Poole's Woods to leave them the world alone to kiss in. She remembered, too, that old Mrs. Drake's spy-glass might be trained on them at that moment.
"I don't care," she said, and laughed.
"Don't care for what?" asked her lover, his lips at her ear.
"For anything. There! let me go. Here's some more fire in the grass."