"Certainly you can."
They went down to where the two cedars loomed, a dark mass, and groped their way to the bench. It was dark beneath the trees and quite dry. Below them was a hollow and beyond it a steep slope crowned by a group of trees, their outlines distinct against the sky. In every direction but this the country dropped away from the house, affording views for miles. Except for the music in the house behind them and the occasional snort or stamp of a horse in the stables, it was very still.
"This is splendid," Baird said, "but are you warm enough? You have nothing on your head—there's a hood to your cape ... may I?"
He drew it up over her hair, restraining his impulse to touch her cheek as he did so. The cape reminded him of Ann Penniman and his afternoon's adventure, and he smiled a little to himself. That had been so natural a performance, and this enforced deference was so entirely a new experience. He was enjoying it; he liked the way in which Judith kept the distance between them. She sat well against her corner of the bench. He could see her face now, black and white and rounded into girlishness by the encircling hood, again reminding him of Ann.
"I like those hooded capes," he remarked. "I don't know that I ever saw one till I came here."
"Haven't you? Almost every woman here has one—they are so convenient. Do you know what sun-bonnets are? If you're here in the summer you'll become acquainted with them, too. But I suppose you will be off befo' then." She spoke more lazily than usual, slurred her words more, another reminder of Ann.
"I shan't be able to get away when I go—if you continue to be kind to me."
Judith laughed. "Do you happen to be Irish?"
"Of course I'm Irish! Haven't you noticed my long upper lip? My father was a pretty successful Chicago ward politician and I have the gift of gab and manipulation too. I can talk money out of a man—any hour of the day. Now that I have had enough of adventure, I mean to settle down to handling people and making money. I was born to it.... But that sort of thing is contrary to all your traditions, isn't it?" he added.
Judith thought that he judged himself rightly; his voice alone would accomplish for him; it had both a persuasive and a compelling quality. "It is, but I admire it," she returned decidedly. He had offered her the opportunity she wanted.