The instinctive protest germinating irresistibly in his mind was too vague and formless for utterance.
"I beg your pardon," he stammered.

"But I fancied you were merely camping around among the hills for the summer." The girl rose and moved off toward the van looming ghostlike through the trees.
"Good night--_Philip_!" she called lightly, her voice instinct with delicate irony.
Philip stirred.

His voice was very gentle.
"Thank you!" he said simply.
Diane hastily climbed the steps at the rear of the van and disappeared.
"I hate men," thought Diane with burning cheeks as she seated herself upon the cot by the window and loosened the shining mass of her straight black hair, "who ramble flippantly through a conversation and turn suddenly serious when one least expects it." By the fire, burning lower as the moon climbed higher, Philip lay very quiet.

Somehow the moonlit stillness of the forest had altered indefinably.

Its depth and shadows jarred.