"No, dear," he said, so naturally and unthinkingly that for a full second neither realised the awful break of Delancy Jones.
When they did they said nothing about it. But it was some time before speech was resumed. She was the first to recover. Perhaps the demoralisation was largely his. It usually is that way.
She said: "This has been the most perfect day of my entire life. I'm even glad I am a little scared. It is delicious to be a trifle afraid. But I'm not, now—very much.... Is there any established
hour for bedtime in the woods?"
"Inclination sounds the hour."[49]
"Isn't that wonderful!" she sighed, her eyes on the fire. "Inclination rules in the forest.... And here I am."
The firelight on her copper-tinted hair masked her lovely eyes in a soft shadow. Her shoulder stirred rhythmically as she breathed.
"And here you live all alone," she mused, half to herself.... "I once saw you pitch a game against Yale.... And the next time I saw you walking very busily down Fifth Avenue.... And now—you are—here.... That is wonderful.... Everything seems to be wonderful in this place.... Wh-what is that flapping noise, please?"
"Two herons fighting in the sedge."
"You know everything.... That is the most wonderful of all. And yet you say you are not famous?"
"Nobody ever heard of me outside the Smithsonian."