He paused and turned to Zonia whispering softly:
“Where is she?”
The girl nodded toward the rose-embowered oak.
“Waiting for you. Billy telephoned us. She’s been there ever since.”
Vassar hurried across the lawn. The twilight was deepening and the new moon hung a half crescent in the evening sky.
She rose as he passed the trellis and stood smiling tenderly until he came close. Her hands were clasped tightly. Neither was extended to greet him.