Look--it's almost one." The blood rushed to his head, and he held out his hands to her.

"But I love you.

I love you, Joany.

You can't--you CAN'T tell me to go." It was a boy's cry, a boy profoundly, terribly hurt and puzzled.
"Well, if we've got to go into all this now I may as well sit down," she said, and did.

"That air's rather chilly, too." She folded her arms over her breast.
It was enough.