"I wonder—You are not going home at once, I hope?"
"Yes," she said, "I am going right back."
He asked her several times to stay a little longer, but Aagot thanked him and said that she wanted to get home. There was nothing to be done; she could not be persuaded, and he had to let her have her way. But they could make up for it some other time? There were both museums and galleries she ought to see; he would gladly act as her guide. She smiled and thanked him.
"I am admiring your walk," he said. "It is the most perfect walk I have ever seen."
She flushed and looked at him quickly.
"You cannot mean that," she said. "I who have lived in the backwoods all my life."
"Well, you may believe me or not, just as you please—You are altogether unusual, Miss Lynum, gloriously uncommon; in vain I seek words that would describe you. Do you know what you remind me of? I have carried this impression around all day. You remind me of the first bird note, the earliest warm spring tones—you know what I mean—that surge through the heart when the snow is gone and the sun and the birds of passage are here! But that isn't all about you. God help me, I cannot find the words I want, poet though I am supposed to be!"
"But I have never heard anything like it!" she cried, and laughed vivaciously. "I am supposed to be like all that? I should like to be, that much is certain. If only it were true!"
"You have come in here from the blue mountains; you are full of smiles," he said. "For this reason the description should call to mind the wild things—should have a flavour of venison, so to speak. I am not sure, though."
They were at the warehouse. They stopped and shook hands.