"I don't know what 'being good' implies, so I won't promise," she replied, smiling.
"It means that you will not act as if you were afraid to be alone with me a minute, and to talk to me as freely as you did before, well—before that snowstorm. You have never put your hand on my shoulder, and asked me to take you any place since then. You don't know how I miss the pleasant hours we used to spend together, or the delight I felt in the pressure of the hand that has never willingly touched mine since I spoke to you here in the parlor. The Dexie I knew a few weeks ago seems to have gone away, and I miss her very much, indeed."
"I can't be the same as I used to be, Lancy. Something is different, and I'm so afraid someone will make remarks about us if we are so much together as we used to be."
"What kind of remarks? tell me, Dexie. Something we would be ashamed to hear?" and he smiled into her distressed face.
"You know what I mean very well, Lancy, and I couldn't bear it."
"Did you ever hear any remarks before—before that snowstorm?"
"No! I never thought there was anything to make remarks about, but I have been looking at things differently lately."
"In what way, Dexie? Do tell me?" and he caught her hands in a firm clasp.
"Don't, Lancy! Please stop! There has been enough said and done already to make people talk if they knew about it."