After a long time Jerry turned his dark head.
"I say, Nan!" he said, almost in a whisper.
"Yes?" she murmured back, her eyes still full of the splendour. The boy raised himself a little.
"Do you remember that day ever so long ago when we played at being sweethearts on this very identical spot?" he asked her softly.
She turned her eyes to his with a doubtful, questioning look.
"We weren't in earnest, Jerry," she reminded him.
He jerked one shoulder with a sharp, impatient gesture, highly characteristic of him.
"I know we weren't. I shan't dream of being in earnest in that way for another ten—perhaps twenty—years. But there's no harm in making believe, is there, just now and then? I liked that game awfully, and so did you. You know you did."
Nan did not attempt to deny it. She sat up instead with her hands clasped round her knees and laughed like an elf.
Her wedding-ring caught the moonlight, and the boy leaned forward with a frown.