“Emily ... Emily ... Emily....”
They moved along the shadowy road. The sunlight slipped from the brim of the lower cliffs across the valley. The brows of the mountains were still alight.
“Listen,” said Rhoda, and Mr. Hope, listening to excess, stalled the engine by mistake.
“Hurray.... Hurray....”
It was a very small distant voice. There was a very small distant Emily framed in tall trees. It seemed to Edward that all the trees they had seen had been but an avenue leading to Emily. She was waving violently at them with both arms. She ran towards them.
“A deer came and almost kissed me,” she shouted urgently as she ran. “We didn’t light the fire till now for fear of frightening it. The darling thing. We are going to have four fried eggs each. We bought all the eggs in the last town.”
“I guess you got to admit now that London has nothing on this,” said Banner Hope.
Leaning over a doubtful camp fire knelt Emily’s employer and his wife. Emily danced about them without dignity. “Isn’t it fine? Isn’t it fine? Soon it will be all starry above and we shall be just seeing each other’s nice faces and eating four fried eggs each.”
“You spoil things by expecting them too much, Emily,” said her employer, snatching facetiously at her dancing ankle.