"They must grow larger, then, and soon."
"Your feet are far too small to travel on."
"They'll travel on to you—that's far enough."
"Your lips—your full and purple lips—were made alone for kissing, not for words."
"They'll do for both."
He laughed in utter joy and touched her hair with light caressing hands.
"It does not fly with sunlight," she said quickly, with an upward glance.
"No," he answered. "It sits and listens to the night."
But even as she nestled to him happily there came the harsh thunder of horses' hoofs, beating on their ears. He drew her quickly to him in fear, and the coach lurched and turned, and left them facing four pairs of eyes. Miss Taylor reddened; Mrs. Grey looked surprised; Mrs. Vanderpool smiled; but Mr. Cresswell darkened with anger. The couple unclasped shamefacedly, and the young man, lifting his hat, started to stammer an apology; but Cresswell interrupted him:
"Keep your—your philandering to the woods, or I shall have you arrested," he said slowly, his face colorless, his lips twitching with anger. "Drive on, John."