"Oh, yes."
"Then let me carry you."
Her eyes sought the ground, the smile round her lips grew merrier; she began pushing the loose stones about with her fingers.
"May I?" he said, eagerly.
She looked up with defiant eyes. "Well, I suppose I must get home," she answered.
He waited for no more, but caught her up in his arms and held her closely clasped. For a moment he paused while he battled with, and conquered, an inclination to stoop and kiss her, then, turning his face from hers, he swung away towards the huts.
She smiled to herself, and laid her head down upon his shoulder; she could feel the mad beating of his heart, and it made her own beat faster.
"Bob," she said.
"Yes," he answered, keeping his face steadily turned away.
"Look at me," she said, authoritatively, "Why do you look away?" "Am I so ugly?"