"I really have been grown up for quite a while," she said, suddenly grave.
He did not try to bring her back to the other mood,—that astonishing little flare of audacity; he was watching her changing face, like her voice it was sweetly grave.
The music had begun again—this time a waltz. A light hand upon her arm, he directed her back towards the dancing floor.
"I have this taken," she objected hesitatingly.
"This is an extra," he said.
She felt sure that it was not; she knew she ought to object, that it was not right to be treating one of the boys of her own crowd that way. But that consciousness of what she ought to be doing fell back—pale, impotent—before the thing she wanted to do....
They were silent for a little time after; without commenting on doing so, they returned to their place outside. "See?" she said presently, "the moon has found another hill. That wasn't there when we were here before."
"And beyond that are more hills," he said, "that we don't see even yet."
"I suppose," she laughed, "that it's not knowing where we would get makes over the hills and far away—fun."
"Well, anything rather than standing still." He said it under his breath, more to himself than to her. But it was to her he added, teasingly and a little lingeringly: "Unless, of course, one were waiting for someone to catch up with one."