‘You stay here,’ he said, ‘and I’ll go up to that confounded machine again, and do a bit more shouting.’
‘It sounds so gruesome,’ she said, with a shiver. ‘As if we were being murdered.’
‘You won’t hear it so much down here.’
He went up the slope, and presently the forlorn sound echoed round again. The night rang with it. It seemed impossible that the whole world should not be startled into activity by such a noise.
When he was hoarse he came back to her, and sat listening with a cocked ear for any sounds of approaching footsteps.
‘You’re not cold?’ he asked. ‘Oh, Catherine—forgive me.’
‘Quite warm,’ she answered smiling. ‘And I don’t mind this a bit, you know. It really is—fun.’
He said no more. He who was so ready of tongue had nothing to say now. In silence he sat beside her, listening.
‘I’m glad we ate all those muffins for tea,’ she said presently.
‘Are you hungry?’