Sally tried to look frankly at him, in the old way. It proved less easy than she would have supposed. His whole personality seemed to have grown so dominant, so compelling. She put out one hand. He grasped it eagerly, and would have drawn her down to where he stood, but she prevented this with a warning gesture.
"No, no—" she said quickly—"it's only round the corner you're to look! That only means—I'm willing to be very good friends—better than we have been, perhaps. I don't want to be—tied—by any promises. I want to be a girl yet—only not—perhaps—quite so little a girl as before. Meanwhile—you're not tied, either."
A short laugh interrupted her. "There's nothing on earth I should like so much!"
"There's such a lovely girl next door—I've heard—"
"What have you heard?"
Sally did not seem to be willing to tell.
"It makes no difference what you've heard. Ask her herself what we've talked of most. But, Sally—how long before I may see round another corner?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. Not—this year, please."
"Not this year! Well—I certainly shall have to cultivate patience. But I will—if I must. When—?"
Her lips twitched a little. It was the girl he had known a long time who answered: "When the first strawberries go to market—from Strawberry Acres!"