Millie. Have I anything to smile about, Andrew?
Andrew. No love coming from your eyes, Mill.
Millie. That you have never seen, Andrew.
Andrew. And all changed in the voice of you too.
Millie. What do you mean by that, Andrew?
Andrew. Listen, Millie—’tis a month since I last spoke with you. Do you recollect? ’Twas the evening of the great Fair.
Millie And what if it was?
Andrew. Millie, you were kinder to me that night than ever you had been before. I seemed to see such a gentle look in your eyes then. And when you spoke, ’twas as though—as though—well—’twas one of they quists a-cooing up in the trees as I was put in mind of.
Millie. Well, there’s nothing more to be said about that now, Andrew. That night’s over and done with.
Andrew. I’ve carried the thought of it in my heart all this time, Millie.