"Half an hour longer."
"What time is it now?"
"I have no idea."
"You can look."
"I refuse to look. Amiability has its limit."
"I had intended to walk home, if I found the fern in time," said Anne.
"Ah? But I think we are going to have a storm. Probably a thunder-storm," said Heathcote, languidly.
"How do you know? And—what shall we do?"
"I know, because I have been watching that little patch of sky up there. As to what we shall do—we can try the mill."
They rose as he spoke. Anne took the plant case. "I will carry this," she said; "the walking-leaf must be humored."