"Why speak of it then?"
"I was afraid you wouldn't come. I brought a coat for you to sit on. The ground's wet."
"I don't want to sit. I want to walk and walk into something soft—soft and oblivious."
"But sit down, just a minute. I want to show you something." His hand shook as he put something into hers and, clearing his throat, said shyly, "It's a swallow."
"A swallow?"
"A brooch."
"It's pretty."
"Let me pin it on for you."
"No, no, I can't—it's much too good for this plain frock, and I might lose it. Haven't you a case for it? There. Put it in your pocket, please. Thank you very much."
"I don't believe you like it."