She. "What a frightful state my hair is in!" (Loops up an escaped lock.) "You must think me so untidy. But out in the country, and in a place like this where no one sees us, it makes one careless of appearance."
He. "I like 'a sweet neglect,' especially in - in some people; it suits them so well. I - 'pon my word, it's very hot!"
She. "But how much hotter it must be from under the shade. It is so pleasant here. It seems so dreamlike to sit among the shadows and look out upon the bright landscape."
He. "It is - very jolly - soothing, at least!" (A pause.) "I think you'll slip. Do you know, I think it will be safer if you will let me" (here his courage fails him. He endeavours to say put my arm round your waist, but his tongue refuses to speak the words; so he substitutes) "change places with you."
She. (Rises, with a look of amused vexation.) "Certainly! If you so particularly wish it." (They change places.) "Now, you see, you have lost by the change. You are too tall for that end of the seat, and it did very nicely for a little body like me."
He. (With a thrill of delight and a sudden burst of strategy.) "I can hold on to this branch, if my arm will not inconvenience you."
She. "Oh no! not particularly:" (he passes his right arm behind her, and takes hold of a bough:) "but I should think it's not very comfortable for you."
He. "I couldn't be more comfortable, I'm sure." (Nearly slips off the tree, and doubles up his legs into an unpicturesque attitude highly suggestive of misery. - A pause) "And do you tell your secrets here?"
She. "My secrets? Oh, I see - you mean, with Kitty. Oh, yes! if this tree could talk, it would be able to tell such dreadful stories."
He. "I wonder if it could tell any dreadful stories of - me?"