“Some one will see us,” she whispered. “Take care.”
She could feel the beating of his heart through his coat. Her hands went up to his shoulders feeling along the rough tweed and with her lids down-drooped she lifted her face.
“Darling,” he breathed, when the kiss was over, “I thought you were never coming.”
“I had to stay with Sybil. She didn’t want to be alone.”
“But you wanted to be here?”
“Just here,” she laid a finger on his breast and broke into smothered, breathless laughter.
He laughed too and they drew apart, their hands sliding together and interlocking. It was all so new, so bewilderingly entrancing, that they did not know how to express it, the man staring wonder-struck, the girl, with her quivering laughter that was close to tears, looking this way and that, not knowing where to look.
“I ought to go,” she whispered. “They’ll be coming,” but made no move.
“Wait till they do.” Then with a sudden practical facing of realities, “When will we be married?”
“Oh, not for ages! I’m not used to being engaged yet!”