She turned her head, and he didn't take it.
"I'll tell you something, Ovind," and she looked slily round.
"Well."
"How ugly you have grown."
"You'll give me the cheese though."
"No, indeed I won't," and she turned away again.
"Now, I must go, Ovind."
"I'll go with you."
"But not out of the wood, or grandfather will see you."
"No, not out of the wood,--dear, are you running?"