She moved nearer, with lowered head, and laid her hands palms up on the oaken counter. He took them and drew her toward him. She raised a rosy face toward him, the violet eyes darting fearfully toward the reading room. Ethan paused and looked thoughtful.
“In nice libraries,” he said, “they have what they call the open stacks. Is it so here?”
She shook her head.
“But—there might be exceptions?”
“There might,” she answered softly.
“And do you think the librarian would permit me to be an exception?”
She nodded, blushing and provoking.
He turned, walked to the end of the counter and pushed aside the swinging gate. At the door of the stack room he paused.
“I would like,” he said, “to find that book of mythology wherein are related the loves of Clytie and Vertumnus. Could you show me where to find it?”
She darted a glance toward the entrance to the reading room. Then she followed him.