As she uttered the exclamation under her breath, she drew away from him quickly, looking over her shoulder at the thick, shadowy underbrush that lined the road below them.
“I didn’t hear anything,” said he, turning with her. “It must have been my heart trying to burst out of its—”
“I heard some one—or some thing,” she said, in a voice of dismay. “Oh, Oliver, some one saw you kiss me, some one heard what we—”
“Suppose he did,” cried he jubilantly. “Why should we care? I’d like the whole world to know how happy—how absolutely happy—I am, Jane. I’ve half a notion to start out right now and run through the streets shouting that I’m in love with you and am going to marry you. When will you marry me, Jane? When?”
The woman in her replied. “I must have time to get some clothes and—”
“You don’t need any,” he broke in. “I mean any more than you have now. I’m not marrying your clothes, dear—I’m marrying you. Sh! Listen! There is some one over there in the brush. Damn his sneaking eyes! I’ll—”
“Don’t! Don’t go down there!” she cried, clutching his arm. “You must not leave me alone. I’m—I’m afraid, Ollie. I am always afraid when I am near that awful swamp. No matter if some one did see us. Let him go. Besides, it may have been a dog or some other animal—”
“Let’s walk down the road a little way, Jane,” said he stubbornly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll stick close beside you.”
“You won’t go down into the swamp?” she cried anxiously.
“No. Just along the road.”