Girls learn the art of mastering their voices much earlier than the opposite sex can, and her voice sounded indifferent enough, or just properly regretful.
He nodded.
"Yes, I must leave Shorne Mills, worse luck."
"If it is so unlucky, why do you go? But why is it so unlucky?" she asked; and still her tone sounded indifferent.
"It's bad luck because—well, because I have been very happy here," he said, checking his horse into a walk.
She glanced at him as she paced beside him.
"You have been so happy here? Really? That sounds so strange. It is such a dull, quiet place."
"Perhaps it's because of that," he said. "God knows, I'm not anxious to get back to London—the world."
She looked at him thoughtfully with her clear, girlish eyes; and he met the glance, then looked across the moor with something like a frown.
"There is a fascination in the place," he said. "It is so beautiful and so quiet; and—and—London is so noisy, such a blare. And——"