Paul cried out and ran. Down the hill toward the shed, the leaves were rattling together.
He didn't see her till she giggled.
For a long moment he stared, breathing, as she struggled guiltily into her dress. She was watching him so intently she could not seem to find her hand into the armhole. A leaf flitted between them.
Paul smiled; her elbow was sticking out of the armhole.
"Leave it off," he breathed. "That sack isn't necessary any more." He held out his hand. "We'll go look at our peach tree."