He listened in cold silence. After a pause—
"Have you done?" he said.
She looked up at him. The moonbeams set tiny frosty sparkles in her eyes.
"Have I done?" she echoed—"No,—not quite! I love talking—and it's a new and amusing sensation for me to talk to a man in his shirt-sleeves on a hill in California by the light of the moon! So wild and picturesque you know! All the men I've ever met have been dressed to death! Have you had your dinner?"
"I never dine," he replied.
"Really! Don't you eat and drink at all?"
"I live simply,"—he said—"Bread and milk are enough for me, and I have these."
She laughed and clapped her hands.
"Like a baby!" she exclaimed—"A big bearded baby! It's too delicious! And you're doing all this just to get away from ME! What a compliment!"
With angry impetus he bent over her reclining figure and seized her two hands.