not make matters any better when he said in a dreamy tone:

"Why are you so quiet?"

"I've worked hard tonight. I'm tired and you're walking so fast."

He was immediately contrite, slackening his step, which in truth was
very slow.

"Oh, Pancha, what a brute I am. Why didn't you tell me?" And he took her
hand and tried to draw it through his arm.

But she resisted, pulling away from him almost pettishly, shrinking from
his touch.

"No, no, let me alone. I like to walk by myself."

He drew back with a slight shrug, more amused than repulsed. Nevertheless
he was rather sorry he had suggested the walk, he had never known her to
be less entertaining.

"Always proud, always independent, always keeping her guard up." He cast
a questioning side glance at her face, grave and pale by his shoulder.
"You wild thing, can no one tame you?"

"Why do you say I'm wild?"

"Because you are. How long have I known you? Since early in September and
I don't get any nearer. You still keep me guessing."