"I'm quite sure it was a cow," she said.
"Are you afraid of cows?"
"Dreadfully."
"And you're not afraid of elephants or camels?"
"Oh, dear, no; they're tame." She seemed in doubt as to the wisdom of expressing aloud the thoughts that troubled her. Twice she peered up into the face of her companion. Then she resolutely delivered herself. "I do hope father won't see us, David."
"You poor girl," he cried gently. "I'm sorry if this gets you into trouble. Denise didn't tell me. She—"
"Oh, Denise did it on purpose," she said, quite glibly. "I suppose she thinks we're going to fall in love with each other."
David was grateful to the darkness. It hid his blush of confusion.
"But that's perfectly silly," went on the soft voice at his elbow. "I just want to be your friend, David. My mother adores you. So do I, but in just the same way that she does. I—I couldn't think of being so ridiculous as to fall in love with you."
He resented this. "I don't see why you say that," he said, rather stiffly. "But," very hastily, "I'm not asking you to do it. Please don't misunderstand me. I—"