"It sounds very simple, doesn't it?"
"What?"
"To make a cushion an excuse."
"An excuse for what?"
They looked at each other again, and laughed, with the incipient mystery of the thing creeping into their blood. The wind blew the golden-flowered furze against the grey sky. Even this stormy day seemed glorious.
"I wanted to come to Stonehanger."
"Did you! Well, why not?"
"Yes, why not! And just for the same reason I'm going to call you—Nance."
She looked straight before her with a sudden self-conscious stiffening of the face. It was as though some strange new thought had touched her, and startled her into introspective silence.
"Is this your horse—Devil Dick?"