"You look very nice when you think. Your eyes look so big and still. You look—beautiful. I could really sleep now, I guess."
"All right, dear."
"But I don't want to. I'm too happy. How late is it?"
"I don't know."
"Well, it's late. We couldn't get home now before awfully late—two or something. And the road's so narrow here, we couldn't turn round. We couldn't go home if we wanted to. Could we?"
"Not very well, dear."
"I'm glad.... Neil."
"Yes."
"Are you thinking now?"
"Yes."