shed his face against hers, kissing
her. Quickly he released Emmy's arm, so that his own might be more
protectingly employed; and they stood embraced in the moonlight.

viii

It was only for a minute, for Emmy, with instinctive secrecy, drew away
into the shadow. At first Alf did not understand, and thought himself
repelled; but Emmy's hands were invitingly raised. The first delight was
broken. One more sensitive might have found it hard to recapture; but
Alf stepped quickly to her side in the shadow, and they kissed again. He
was surprised at her passion. He had not expected it, and the flattery
was welcome. He grinned a little in the safe darkness, consciously and
even sheepishly, but with eagerness. They were both clumsy and a little
trembling, not very practised lovers, but curious and excited. Emmy felt
her hat knocked a little sideways upon her head.

It was Emmy who moved first, drawing herself away from him, she knew not
why.

"Where you going?" asked Alf, detaining her. "What is it? Too rough, am
I?" He could not see Emmy's shaken head, and was for a moment puzzled at
the ways of woman--so far from his grasp.

"No," Emmy said. "It's wonderful."

Peering closely, Alf could see her eyes shining.

"D'you think you're fond enough of me, Emmy?" She demurred.

"That's a nice thing to say! As if it was for me to tell you!" she
whispered archly back.

"What ought I to say? I'm not ... mean to say, I don't know how to say
things, Emmy. You'll have to put up with my rough ways. Give us a kiss,
old sport."

"How many more! You _are_ a one!" Emmy was not pliant enough. In her
voice there was the faintest touch of--something that was not
self-consciousness, that was perhaps a sense of failure. Perhaps she was
back again suddenly into her maturity, finding it somehow ridiculous to
be kissed and to kiss with such abandon. Alf was not baffled, however.
As she withdrew he advanced, so that his knuckle rubbed against the
brick wall to which Emmy had retreated.

"I say," he cried sharply. "Here's the wall."

"Hurt yourself?" Emmy quickly caught his hand and raised it, examining
the knuckle. The skin might have been roughened; but no blood was drawn.
Painfully, exultingly, her dream realised, she pressed her cheek against
the back of his hand.

ix

"What's that for?" demanded Alf.

"Nothing. Never you mind. I wanted to do it." Emmy's cheeks were hot as
she spoke; but Alf marvelled at the action, and at her