They went away, but only the moments hurried. They that read here, though their heads be gray and their hearts heavy, will understand; for they will remember some little space of time, with seconds flashing as they went, like dust of diamonds in the hour-glass.
"Don't you remember how you came in the little red sleigh?" she asked presently.
"No."
"I think it's very grand," said she. "It's so much like a story."
"Do you read stories?"
"All I can get. I've been reading 'Greytower.'"
"I read it last winter," said the boy. "What did you like best in it?"
"I'm ashamed to tell you," said she, with a quick glance at him.
"Please tell me."
"Oh, the love scenes, of course," said she, looking down with a sigh, and a little hesitation.