"Who do I know very well? Not a soul here except you; and, after all, I don't think I know you very well."
"Well, if you don't you ought."
"Ought what? Know the mysterious 'her' or you?"
"Me!"
Hescott looks at her keenly in the dim light. Is she a born coquette, or is she only a sweet child—the sweetest child that earth ever gave forth? Somehow it would have hurt him to find her a coquette.
"Ah! I don't know you."
"Tom!" There is a little reproach in her tone. Suddenly she puts out her little slim hand and slips it into his. "As if we weren't brought up together," says she, "just like a brother and sister. You remember the old days, don't you, Tom? when we used to go fishing together, and the cricket——"
"Is it wise to remember?" says Hescott in a low tone.
His heart is beating; his fingers now close on hers.
"I don't know—yes. Yes, I think I like to," says Tita. "Darling pappy! Sometimes it all comes back to me. How happy I was then!"