"I love all kinds of beauty," went on Fleur, "when it's exciting. I don't like Greek things a bit."
"What! Not Euripides?"
"Euripides? Oh! no, I can't bear Greek plays; they're so long. I think beauty's always swift. I like to look at ONE picture, for instance, and then run off. I can't bear a lot of things together. Look!" She held up her blossom in the moonlight. "That's better than all the orchard, I think."
And, suddenly, with her other hand she caught Jon's. "Of all things in the world, don't you think caution's the most awful? Smell the moonlight!"
She thrust the blossom against his face; Jon agreed giddily that of all things in the world caution was the worst, and bending over, kissed the hand which held his.
"That's nice and old-fashioned," said Fleur calmly. "You're frightfully silent, Jon. Still I like silence when it's swift." She let go his hand. "Did you think I dropped my handkerchief on purpose?"
"No!" cried Jon, intensely shocked.
"Well, I did, of course. Let's get back, or they'll think we're doing this on purpose too." And again she ran like a ghost among the trees. Jon followed, with love in his heart, Spring in his heart, and over all the moonlit white unearthly blossom. They came out where they had gone in, Fleur walking demurely.
"It's quite wonderful in there," she said dreamily to Holly.
Jon preserved silence, hoping against hope that she might be thinking it swift.