Leslie pulled out his watch. "N-o-o. Only twenty after eleven."
"Twenty after eleven? Twenty after eleven! Oh, my goodness! I didn't have any idea it was so late. It seemed as though we were only out there a couple of minutes!"
"It did to me, too," admitted Leslie.
The lateness of the hour, however, appeared to exert no immediate influence upon either his recognition of the wisdom of departure or hers of withdrawal to bed. Leslie swung back and forth, clinging to a slender birch tree which grew quite close to the cottage. Its silver leaves crashed gently together, as though a breeze were thrusting its way through.
"I could simply sit out here all night!" Hilda declared.
Leslie admitted he could too. Presently he did sit down. He sat down beside Hilda, but, as before, one step below her. It was certainly a lovely night. His head somehow found her knee; then Eros could hardly contain himself! Hilda ran her fingers very lightly through his hair. They did not bother to talk much.
At length he asked: "Shall we go out after raspberries tomorrow? Would you like to?"
"Oh, Les—that would be lots of fun!"
"All right."