"Rather," said Knowlton, with a half sigh again. "It don't make any difference, if we were once there, Diana."
Diana looked thoughtful. It had never occurred to her, before this time, to wish that the country were not so extended; and certainly not to fancy that California and she had any interest in common. Lo, now it might be. "How soon must you go, Evan?" she asked, as thoughts of longitude and latitude began to deepen the cloud shadow which had just touched her.
"A few days—a week or two more."
"Is that all?"
"Can you go with me?" he whispered, bending forward to pick up a few of her berries, for the taste of which he certainly did not care at that moment.
And she whispered, "No."
"Can't you?"
"You know it's impossible, Evan."
"Then I must go by myself," he said, in the same half breath, stooping his head still so near that a half breath could be heard; and his hair, quite emancipated from the regulation cut, touched Diana's cheek. "I don't know how I can! But, Di—if I can get a furlough at Christmas and come for you—will you be ready then?"
She whispered, "Yes."