"Let's just think," she pleaded, "it is so beautiful."
They came to a station near Daleview, and walked over. On the way he slipped his arm about her waist, but, oh, so lightly.
"Suzanne," he asked, with a terrible yearning ache in his heart, "do you blame me? Can you?"
"Don't ask me," she pleaded, "not now. No, no."
He tried to press her a little more closely.
"Not now. I don't blame you."
He stopped as they neared the lawn and entered the house with a jesting air. Explanations about mixing in the crowd and getting lost were easy. Mrs. Dale smiled good naturedly. Suzanne went to her room.