Page:Middle Aged Love Stories (IA middleagedlove00bacorich).djvu/285



He chuckled. “I should say I did! And sometimes the greatest idiot would ‘leave off head’ because there wasn’t any more time. It was maddening!”

He munched in silence for a while, and she did not dream of interrupting.

“In the winter, though—George! but it was cold! We used to positively swim through the drifts. I tell you, there aren’t any such snows now! How did you get there?”

“I only went in the summer,” she said; “and I used to come in all stained with the berries I ate along the way. It was dreadful”—she grew stern, as if addressing the little girl in striped stockings and pigtails—“the way I ate berries! I used to eat the bushes clean on the way to school!”

She had got over her first shyness, and had gained time to realize her big apron, which she hastily untied. He caught the motion and protested.

“No, no! Keep it on! I haven’t