Kirby did not realize how long he had been silent, when she stopped speaking. Her voice still echoed in his ears, blended with the whisper of the sea. He sat beside her, lost in a reverie.
“This is how it ought to be,” he thought. “This is just right—to have her come to me like this, and for her to be like this!”
He was roused by her getting up.
“I’ll have to be going,” she said.
“No!” said Kirby, rising, too. “Please don’t!”
“But it’s late.”
She turned toward him, and he had another glimpse of her face and her shining, solemn dark eyes.
“Please don’t!” he repeated.
“But, you see, I’ve got to,” she explained. “I promised I’d be home by nine o’clock.”
“I’ll walk home with you.”