“Oh, yes, that’s so easy.”
“Well”—she descended to details with an air of kindness—“what do you want? Let’s work it out. We’d better sit on the wall. After all, it’s rather lovely without the trees. It’s so clear and the air’s so blue, as if it’s trying to make up. Now tell me what you want.”
“Something money can’t buy.”
“Then you needn’t have cut down the trees.”
“I shouldn’t have if I’d thought you’d care.”
She said softly but sharply, “I don’t believe that for a moment. Why don’t you tell the truth?”
“Do you want to hear it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Then I’ll wait while you make up your mind.”
Sitting on the wall, his feet rested easily on the ground while hers swung free, and while he seemed to loll in complete indifference, she was conscious of a tenseness she could not prevent. She hated her enjoyment of his manner, which was impudent, but it had the spice of danger that she liked and it was in defiance of the one and encouragement of the other that she said, “I’m sure you would never talk to Aunt Rose like that.”