Briggs, clasping his flowers to his breast, gazed out over them at Wayne.
“You don’t mean——”
“Yes, I do,” said Wayne. “I may be crazy, but I know something,” with which paradox he turned on his heel and walked into the moonlit meadow toward that dim, white form moving through the dusk.
“I wondered,” she said, “whether you were coming,” as he stepped through the long, fragrant grass to her side.
“You might have wondered if I had not come,” he answered.
“Yes, that is true. This moonlight is too wonderful to miss,” she added without a trace of self-consciousness.
“It was for you I came.”
“Couldn’t you find my sisters?” she asked innocently.
He did not reply. Presently she stumbled over a hummock, recovered her poise without comment, and slipped her hand into his with unconscious confidence.
“Do you know what I have been studying to-day?” she asked.