"If you think this is great, wait—just you wait. Gee! if you like this, what would you have said to the farm? Wait till we get to the top of the hill."
Fallen leaves, crisp as paper, crackled pleasantly under their feet; and through the haze that is October's veil glowed a reddish sun, vague as an opal. A footpath crawled like a serpent through the woods and they followed it, kicking up the leaves before them, pausing, darting, exclaiming.
"I—Honest, Mr. Blaney, I—"
"Eddie!"
"Eddie, I—I never did feel so—I never was so—so—Aw, I can't say it."
Tears sprang to her eyes.
"Sure you never was. I never was, neither, before—before—"
"Before what?"
"Before I had to."
"Had to?"
"Yeh; both of them. Bleeding all the time. Didn't see nothing but red for 'leven months."