"Sam and Peabody hopping around with leaves in their teeth would look silly," objected the man, "I doubt if I could keep from laughing."
"Then," said the girl, "they can be the wicked robbers who came to kill the babes."
"Very well," said the man with suspicious alacrity, "let us be babes. If I have to die," he went on heartily, "I would rather die with you than live with any one else."
When he had spoken, although they were entirely alone in the world and quite near to each other, it was as though the girl could not hear him, even as though he had not spoken at all. After a silence, the girl said: "Perhaps it would be better for us to go back to the car."
"I won't do it again," begged the man.
"We will pretend," cried the girl, "that the car is a van and that we are gypsies, and we'll build a campfire, and I will tell your fortune."
"You are the only woman who can," muttered the young man.
The girl still stood in her tracks.
"You said—" she began.
"I know," interrupted the man, "but you won't let me talk seriously, so I joke. But some day——"