She could keep silence, it was evident, as energetically as she could talk.
"I guess you're feeling pretty tired and hungry," Matthew ventured to say at last, accounting for her long visitation of dumbness with the only reason he could think of.

"But we haven't very far to go now--only another mile." She came out of her reverie with a deep sigh and looked at him with the dreamy gaze of a soul that had been wondering afar, star-led.
"Oh, Mr.Cuthbert," she whispered, "that place we came through--that white place--what was it ?" "Well now, you must mean the Avenue," said Matthew after a few moments' profound reflection.

"It is a kind of pretty place." "Pretty?
Oh, PRETTY doesn't seem the right word to use.

Nor beautiful, either.

They don't go far enough.