"——always fussing over it; she plants narcissuses and crocuses in the woods, so you find them growing wild."
"I like those awnings. Against the white walls.... May I consider that we are engaged then, Miss Winslow—engaged for the next marriage?"
"Oh no, no, not engaged, dear. Don't you know it's one of my principles——"
"But look——"
"——not to be engaged, Hawk? Everybody brings the cunnin' old jokes out of the moth-balls when you're engaged. I'll marry you, but——"
"Marry me next month—August?"
"Nope."
"September?"
"Nope."
"Please, Ruthie. Aw yes, September. Nice month, September is. Autumn. Harvest moon. And apples to swipe. Come on. September."