CHAPTER XX—THE POND IN THE WOODLAND
Some one was kicking his foot He awoke to find Ruddy, hands in pockets, grinning down on him.
“Been op for hoars,” he whispered; “been exploring. Found a ripping pool Want to swim in it?”
Teddy eased his arm from under the little girl and nodded. “Let’s light a fire first. She’ll know then that we’re not far away, and won’t be nervous.”
The blur of foliage quivered with mysteries of a myriad coinings and goings. Everywhere unseen paths were being traveled to unseen houses. Within sight, yet sounding distant, a woodpecker, like a postman going his rounds, was tap-tap-tapping.
Ruddy knelt and struck a match; tongues of scarlet spurted. The camp-fire became a beating heart in this citadel of gray-green loneliness.
Desire lay curled among withered leaves, her face flushed with sleep, her lips parted. At sound of the fire snapping and cracking, she stirred and opened her eyes slowly.
“Oh, don’t leave me. Where are you going?”
“To have a swim,” they told her.
“But mayn’t I come? I promise to sit with my back turned. I promise not to look, honestly.”