“Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. It was intolerable to think that he might overhear words and phrases. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. " "I was never going to tell anybody," she added. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her.
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