“Did you come to uncle because of me?”
He knew that it was so.
“Yes,” he said. “Hadn’t we better go?”
“Not yet.”
She was kneeling beside him mischievously tickling the back of his hand with a frond of bracken.
“Not yet. Do you remember what you said to me that night?”
“No. What did I say?”
“You said you’d never been in love.”
“No more I have.”
“Come along then.”