“I’m—thinking!” Nella-Rose drew her brows together and nibbled a bit of corn bread meditatively. Then—quite suddenly:
“I’m coming here!”
“You—you mean that?” Truedale flushed.
“Yes. And the big woods—you walk in them?”
“I certainly do.”
“Sometimes—I am in the big woods.”
“Where—specially?” Truedale was playing this new game with the foolish skill of the novice.
“There’s a Hollow—where—” (Nella-Rose paused) “where the laurel tangle is like a jungle—”
Truedale broke in: “I know it! There’s a little stream running through it, and—trails.”
“Yes!” Nella-Rose leaned back and showed her white teeth alluringly.