“Misteh Ruiz....”

“Exquisite kid.”

“I saw you thu de window-glass all de time, an’ dair was I! laughing so silent-ly....”

“My little honey.”

“... no; ’cos ob de nabehs,” she fluted, drawing him beneath the great flamboyants that stood like temples of darkness all around.

“Sweetheart.”

“I ’clar to grashis!” she delightedly crooned as he gathered her up in his arms.

“My little Edna...?...?...?”

“Where you goin’ wid me to?”

“There,” and he nodded towards the white sea sand.