“No.” Before he could speak again she changed her answer: “Yes, I do remember. If I said ‘no’ you’d be sure to remind me of what we were doing. We can’t see as well here as we could from the steps.”
“But from here, you have the best view in Sleepy Cat of Music Mountain.”
“We didn’t come out here to see Music Mountain.”
“I come here often to look at it. You won’t let me see you––what can I do but look at where you live? How long are you going to keep me away from you?”
Nan did not answer. He urged her to speak. 247 “You know very well it is my people that will never be friendly with you,” she replied. “How can I be?”
They were passing a lawn settee. He sat down. She would not follow. She stood in a sort of protest at his side, but he did not release her hand. “I’ll tell you how you can be,” he returned. “Make me one of your people.”
“That never can be,” she declared stubbornly. “You know it as well as I do. Why do you say such things?” she demanded, drawing away her hand.
“Do you want to know?”
“No.”
“It’s because I love you.”