"I think I like you better when you laugh than when—when you're 'bottled up'."
"But I mustn't laugh at you. I didn't mean to. I just—couldn't help. You've forgiven me, haven't you?"
"Of course."
She had taken up her hat and now walked away upstream. Jerry followed.
"Will you really come next year?" he asked. "I—I should like to show you my specimens."
"Next year! Next year is a long way off. You know, I don't belong here. I'm only visiting."
"Oh!"
She clambered down into the bed of the stream toward the iron railing. Two of the bars, as he could now see, were bent inward at the bottom.
When she reached the railing she turned and flashed a smile up at him.
"You'd better tell Roger about the broken fence."