"Why, thinking that something may happen."
"Oh, nonsense!" he said: "there's nothing going to happen. It's because you care for me you think like that. Why, look at me: ain't I the same? Before this I never felt anything but glad to be off and get away; but this time"—and he drew a long sigh, as if to get rid of the oppression—"I seem to carry about a lump of lead inside me, and the nearer it comes to saying good-bye the heavier it grows."
This sympathy seemed to afford Eve some consolation, and when she spoke again it was to ask in a more cheerful tone how long their probable absence would be, where they were going, what time they would take in getting there; to all of which Adam answered with unnecessary exactness, for both of them felt they were talking, for talking's sake, of things about which they knew all they could know already. Yet how was it possible, in the light of open day, when at any moment they might be joined by a third person, to speak of that which lay deep down in their hearts, waiting only for a word, a caress, a tender look, to give it voice?
Adam had had a dozen cautions, entreaties, injunctions to give to Eve: he had been counting through every minute of the day the time to this hour, and now it had come and he seemed to have nothing to say—could think of nothing except how long he could possibly give to remaining.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed after more than an hour had slipped away—time wasted in irrelevant questions and answers, with long pauses between, when neither could think of anything to say, and each wondered why the other did not speak—"By Jove, Eve! I must be off: I didn't think the time had gone so quick. We mustn't start at the furthest later than eight; and if I ain't there to look after them nobody'll think it worth while to be ready."
They were back under shelter of the hedge again now, and Adam (who possessed the singular quality of not caring to do his lovemaking in public) ventured to put his arm round Eve's waist and draw her toward him. "You'll never let me go again," he said, "without bein' able to leave you my wife, Eve, will you? 'Tis that, I b'lieve, is pressing on me. I wish now more than ever that you hadn't persisted in saying no all this long winter."
"I won't say no next time," she said, while the hitherto restrained tears began to fall thick and fast.
Adam's delight was not spoken in words, and for the time he forgot all about the possibility of being overlooked: "Then, when I come back I sha'n't be kept waiting any longer?"
"No."
"And we shall be married at once?"