"Will you? Then play again, now. It makes me feel all queer inside."
Peter laughed. "Do you feel that way when you sing?"
"No. It all comes out of me then."
"Would you mind singing for me, Beth?" he asked after a moment.
"I—I don't think I dare."
He got up and went to the piano.
"What do you sing?"
But she hadn't moved and she didn't reply. So he urged her.
"In the woods when you're coming home——?"
"Oh, I don't know——It just comes out—things I've heard—things I make up——"