"No, money means little enough to me. Give me the big outdoors and a regular horse, a keen zest in life, and true appreciation of every creature and rock and tree and blade that God has created, and I'll struggle along."
As he talked the colour had been mounting to her face. When he ceased she turned starry eyes upon him, her white teeth showing between slightly parted lips.
"Oliver Drew," she said, "you have made me very happy. I—"
A rush of blood throbbed suddenly at Oliver's temples, and once again he swung his horse close to hers.
"I'll try to make you happy always," he said low-voiced. "Jessamy—" Again he opened his arms for her, but as before she drew herself away from him.
"Don't! Not—not now! Wait—Oliver!"
"Wait! Always wait! Why?"
"I—I must tell you something first. I can tell you now—after—after last night."
"Then tell me quickly," he demanded.
She rested both hands on her saddle horn and rose in her stirrups. For a long time her black eyes gazed down the precipice below them, while the wind whipped wisps of hair about her forehead. Oliver waited, drunk with the thought of his nearness to her.