And because I didn't care, I was blunt and natural, and they thought it _chic_.

But it wasn't _chic_; it was that I _really_ didn't care.

And I don't think I've ever quite succeeded in taking Peter in either; for he _couldn't_ believe I could really think any sort of life worth living but the dear old life down here, which he and I love best in the world, in our heart of hearts." The twinkling, frosty blue points of starlight glittered in the cloudless vault of heaven, above the moonlit stillness of the valley.
The clear-cut shadows of the balcony and the stone urns fell across the cold paths and whitened grass of the terrace.
Ghostlike, Sarah's white form emerged from the darkness of the room, and stood on the threshold of the window.
John threw away the end of his cigar, and smiled.

"I presume the interview we were not to interrupt is over ?" he said, good-humouredly.
"Surely it is not very prudent of Miss Sarah to venture out-of-doors in that thin gown; or has she a cloak of some kind--" But Peter was not listening to him.
Sarah, wrapped in her white cloak and hood, had already flitted across the moonlit terrace, into the deep shadow of the ilex grove; and the boy was by her side before John could reach the window she had just quitted.
"Oh, is it you, Peter ?" said Miss Sarah, looking over her shoulder.

"I was looking for you.