"I couldn't say a word more for a moment or so. I rolled over on the turf and looked her in the face. 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I'm a silly young Tommy suddenly in love—oh! desperately in love.'
"Her grave face regarded me. She did not look frightened or disconcerted. Perhaps her heart beat faster than I thought. But her voice when she spoke was constrained.
"'Why are you talking like that? You've just met me.... How can you love me? It isn't possible people should love like this.'
"'I've seen you long enough——'
"I could not talk. I met her eyes. Hers dropped before mine. The warm colour mounted to her cheeks. She bit her lips.
"'You,' she said in a low voice, 'are just in love with love.'
"'Anyhow, I am in love,' I said.
"She plucked a spray of minute flowers and forgot it in her hand.
"'This is your last day?' she asked, and made my heart beat faster.
"'It may be my last altogether for this sort of thing. Who can tell? ... For a long time anyhow. Why should it hurt you to let me love you to-day? Why shouldn't you be kind to me? Civil to me—anyhow. I don't ask for so very much. If—suppose—we went for a walk together? Just a long walk. If we spent most of the day together? Somewhere we might get something to eat....'