He took her hand, and it stayed unresisting against his palm. She laughed again, and then yawned, lifting her shoulders with a supple movement that shook off the blanket.
"It takes such a long time to wake up," she murmured apologetically.
David made no answer, and for a space they sat silent looking at the sunset. As the mists of sleep dispersed she became aware of his hand pressure, and the contentment that marked her awakening was marred. But she felt in a kindly mood and did not withdraw her hand. Instead, she wanted to please him, to be as she thought he would like her to be, so she made a gallant effort and said:
"What a wonderful sunset—all yellow to the middle of the sky."
He nodded, looking at the flaming west. She went on:
"And there are little bits of gold cloud floating over it, like the melted lead that you pour through a key on all Hallowe'en."
He again made no answer, and leaning nearer to spy into his face, she asked naïvely:
"Don't you think it beautiful?"
He turned upon her sharply, and she drew back discomposed by his look.
"Let me kiss you," he said, his voice a little husky.