“May I keep it, please?” he asked softly.
She went swiftly up the little slope under the trees.
“Clytie!” he called. She paused, without turning, to listen.
“May I keep it?”
Clytie dropped her head and passed quickly from sight.
[VII.]
Ethan stretched his arms, chastely clad in striped blue and white madras, yawned expansively, kicked his legs loose from the sheet in which they were entangled, and awoke; awoke to find the sunlight dancing across the room and making radiant blurs of his brushes on the old mahogany bureau; awoke to find a robin fervently launching his brief ballad in through the window from the branches just outside; awoke to find himself in a new and very wonderful world, a world populated by a girl with violet eyes, a reiterating robin, and himself!