"Oh, please let me look around a little," he begged at last. "And
this is why you love to come here?"
"Yes--wouldn't you?"
"I would not live anywhere else if I could--and it has just the
air of summer--and it feels like a summer's night, too--as if the
moon was coming up somewhere."
Ruth's delight equalled his own; she must show him the new tulips
just sprouting, taking down a lantern so that he could see the
better; and he must see how the jessamine was twisted in and out
the criss-cross slats of the trellis, so that the flowers bloomed
both outside and in; and the little gully in the flagging of the
pavement through which ran the overflow of the tiny pond--till the
circuit of the garden was made and they were again seated on the
dangerous bench, with a cushion tucked behind her beautiful
shoulders.
They talked of the tunnel and when it would be finished; and of
the village people and whom they liked and whom they didn't--and
why--and of Corinne, whose upturned little nose and superior,
dominating airs Ruth thought were too funny for words; and of her
recently announced engagement to Garry Minott, who had started for
himself in business and already had a commission to build a church
at Elm Crest--known to all New Jersey as Corklesville until the
real-estate agencies took possession of its uplands--Jack being
instrumental, with Mr.
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