“What you run for?” she asked, with dancing mischief in her eyes.
‚ÄúBecause‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù he hesitated, and his cheeks grew hot.
“I knows,” she said, with impish glee, laughing low music.
“Why?” he challenged, sturdily.
“You was afeared.”
He bridled. “Well, I reckon you’d be afeared if you was caught out in the black dark all alone.”
“Pooh!” she scoffed and hugged her knees. “Pooh! I’ve stayed out all alone heaps o’ nights.”
He looked at her with a curious awe.
“I don’t believe you,” he asserted; but she tossed her head and her eyes grew scornful.
“Who’s afeared of the dark? I love night.” Her eyes grew soft.
He watched her silently, till, waking from her daydream, she abruptly asked:
“Where you from?”
“Georgia.”
“Where’s that?”
He looked at her in surprise, but she seemed matter-of-fact.
“It’s away over yonder,” he answered.
“Behind where the sun comes up?”