"You here?" she says. "Oh, that terrible child!"
"She didn't understand, poor little soul." And then, as though the recollection overcomes him, he gives away to uncontrollable mirth.
"Such unseemly levity!" says Mrs. Bohun, in a disgusted tone; but, after the vaguest hesitation, she laughs too.
"Come to the orchard," says Ronayne; and to the orchard they go. Here, finding a rustic seat at the foot of a gnarled and moss-grown apple-tree, they take possession of it.
"It is very unfortunate," says Olga, with a sigh. Her fair hair is being blown like a silver cloud hither and thither and renders her distractingly pretty.
"You mean our betrayal by that child?"
"Yes. I hope it will cure you of ever being so silly as to go on your knees to any woman again."
"I shall never go on my knees to any woman but you, whether you accept or reject me."
"I am sure I don't know how I am ever to face those people inside again." Here she puts one dainty little finger to her lips and bites it cruelly.
"There is nothing remarkable in having one's accepted lover at one's feet."