"Why, you little baby!" Johnny Byrd moved nearer to her. "What you 'fraid of, Ri-Ri? We can't help how late it is, can we?"
He put an arm about her and drew her gently close, and because she was so tired and frightened and upset Maria Angelina could no longer resist the tears that came blinding her eyes.
"You little baby!" said Johnny again softly, and suddenly she felt his kiss upon her cheek.
"Poor little Ri-Ri! Poor tired little girl!"
"Oh, you must not. Signor, you must not."
"Signor," he said reproachfully.
"J-Johnny," she choked.
"That's better. . . . All right, I'll be good, Ri-Ri. Just sit still. And I'll be good."
But firmly he kept his arm about her and soon her tense little figure relaxed in that strong clasp. She was not frightened, as last night at the dance, she felt utterly forlorn and comforted by his strength.
They sat very still, unspeaking in that silent embrace, and about them it grew colder and darker while the sky seemed to grow thinner and grayer and clear. And at last against the pallor of the sky, mountain after mountain lifted itself out of the shadowy cloud mass, and peak after peak defined itself, stretching on and on like an army of giants.