“Would you care to?”
He took his place at her side, and they turned down by the church, to the lake shore. There was a moon above the mountain and the air was coming fresh, not too strong, from the west. From the Pacific. Little lights were burning ruddy by the boats at the water’s edge, some outside, and some inside, under the roof-tilt of the boat’s little inward shed. Women were preparing a mouthful of food.
“But the night is beautiful,” said Kate, breathing deep.
“With the moon clipped away just a little,” he said.
Juana was following close on her heels: and behind, two soldiers in slouched hats.
“Do the soldiers escort you?” she said.
“I suppose so,” said he.
“But the moon,” she said, “isn’t lovely and friendly as it is in England or Italy.”
“It is the same planet,” he replied.
“But the moonshine in America isn’t the same. It doesn’t make one feel glad as it does in Europe. One feels it would like to hurt one.”