Excerpt: …for some yards, the dried leaves ruffling almost to their knees in places. Then Loring said: If you once gave your word you wouldn’t break it to child or grown-up.
I don’t know. I’ve never been tested.
I know.
Thanks. But you shouldn’t get into the habit of idealising people. You’ll end as a cynic if you do. Her tone was pleasantly mocking. Loring said quietly: I’ve never idealised but one person in my life.
Well . perhaps that’s being a little too cautious.
Caution has nothing to do with it. Such things come or they don’t come.
Yes . perhaps they do. Ah! Wild grapes! What beauties! She stood gazing up at the little clusters of purple-black fox-grapes that hung against the arch of yellow leaves overhead. The vine had swung itself in great loops about a dogwood tree. The grapes were like a delicate design of wrought iron work against the gilded background of autumn leaves. But they hung high