“Do you think it really is old?” asked Valancy dreamily. “I never believe that in June. It seems so young tonight—somehow. In that quivering moonlight—like a young, white girl—waiting.”
“Moonlight here on the verge of up back is different from moonlight anywhere else,” agreed Barney. “It always makes me feel so clean, somehow—body and soul. And of course the age of gold always comes back in spring.”
It was ten o’clock now. A dragon of black cloud ate up the moon. The spring air grew chill—Valancy shivered. Barney reached back into the innards of Lady Jane and clawed up an old, tobacco-scented overcoat.
“Put that on,” he ordered.
“Don’t you want it yourself?” protested Valancy.
“No. I’m not going to have you catching cold on my hands.”
“Oh, I won’t catch cold. I haven’t had a cold since I came to Mr. Gay’s—though I’ve done the foolishest things. It’s funny, too—I used to have them all the time. I feel so selfish taking your coat.”
“You’ve sneezed three times. No use winding up your ‘experience’ up back with grippe or pneumonia.”
He pulled it up tight about her throat and buttoned it on her. Valancy submitted with secret delight. How nice it was to have some one look after you so! She snuggled down into the tobaccoey folds and wished the night could last forever.
Ten minutes later a car swooped down on them from “up back.” Barney sprang from Lady Jane and waved his hand. The car came to a stop beside them. Valancy saw Uncle Wellington and Olive gazing at her in horror from it.