"Can't—run—no—more," she said, throwing herself on the grass, and Jack after one more triumphant circle threw himself by her side.
Leaning over the gate with his arms folded on the top was a man, who had stood there unperceived, watching the children's play with quiet amusement. Now as it came to an end he laughed aloud, a kindly genial laugh.
"That was really a fine exhibition," he said unlatching the gate and coming towards them, "and deserves a round of applause," and suiting the action to the word he clapped his hands together with all his might.
Jack sprang to his feet, surveying the stranger with frankly questioning eyes, but Eva, too exhausted to speak, sat where she was.
"Did you know what we were playing at? asked Jack.
"I must confess I heard you naming it. You were pretending to be aeroplanes, weren't you? but it was so excellent an imitation that I think I could have guessed. But isn't it rather a tiring game for a little girl like this?"
"I don't know; Eva likes to do what I do, don't you, Eva?"
Eva sat bolt upright and nodded.
"Your little sister, I expect, and a good deal younger than you?"
"Not sister; we're chums, that's all, but it's just as good. She's five, and I'm seven, but I'm big for my age, aren't I?"