“Well, good-bye. I hope you’ll feel better after a while,” she said, catching hold of a low hanging branch, preparatory to swinging herself down to earth.
“Thank you.” Mr. Sheridan did not understand why he felt just a trifle foolish. “I hope you will pay me another visit.”
“Oh, but I thought you wanted to be alone,” said Jane, innocently.
Mr. Sheridan hesitated.
“People in general are terrible nuisances,” he said, at length. “I came here to avoid the boredom—that is, at present I am very little in the mood for being bothered by the curiosity of a host of friends and acquaintances. But on the other hand, it would be a pleasure to chat with you now and then.”
Jane was tremendously flattered.
“Oh, I can understand that perfectly,” she said, nodding her curly head with a great air of wisdom. “Well, I’ll come and see you again. Aren’t you really going to eat that apple?”
Mr. Sheridan laughed, and tossed it back to her.
“There you are, Eve. Like Adam, I’d be much better without it.”
With the agility of a monkey, Jane, holding the apple between her teeth, swung herself lightly and easily to the ground. A little later Mr. Sheridan saw the curly auburn head and the green sweater moving up the hill, and with the feeling that he would very much like to be going in the same direction, toward that busy little town—yes, in the very same direction of that human society which he had resolved to shun—he turned away.