"Where do you wish to go ?" "Nowhere in particular.

The walk looks so inviting we should like to see the end." "It goes only to the Farm, and you can reach that by the highroad; it is only a half-mile further.

Do you wish to call at the Farm ?" "No, oh no; the path is so very pretty that--" "Yes, I see; well, I should call it rather private." And with this she departed, leaving us to stand on the outskirts of paradise, while she went into her house and stared at us from the window as she played with the lovely undeserved baby.

But that was not the end of the matter.
We found ourselves there next day, Francesca and I--Salemina was too proud--drawn by an insatiable longing to view the beloved and forbidden scene.

We did not dare to glance at the Disagreeable Woman's windows, lest our courage should ooze away, so we opened the gate and stole through into the rather private path.
It was a most lovely path; even if it had not been in a sense prohibited, it would still have been lovely, simply on its own merits.
There were little gaps in the hedge and the wall, through which we peered into a daisy-starred pasture, where a white bossy and a herd of flaxen-haired cows fed on the sweet green grass.