passionate, proud silence, until he had sued long for peace; then in sudden new friendship she had taken his hand and led him through the swamp, showing him all the beauty of her swamp-world‚ÅÝ‚Äîgreat shadowy oaks and limpid pools, lone, naked trees and sweet flowers; the whispering and flitting of wild things, and the winging of furtive birds. She had dropped the impish mischief of her way, and up from beneath it rose a wistful, visionary tenderness; a mighty half-confessed, half-concealed, striving for unknown things. He seemed to have found a new friend.
And today, after he had taken Miss Taylor home and supped, he came out in the twilight under the new moon and whistled the tremulous note that always brought her.
“Why did you speak so to Miss Taylor?” he asked, reproachfully. She considered the matter a moment.
‚ÄúYou don‚Äôt understand,‚Äù she said. ‚ÄúYou can‚Äôt never understand. I can see right through people. You can‚Äôt. You never had a witch for a mammy‚ÅÝ‚Äîdid you?‚Äù