This page needs to be proofread.
"Oh, please!" she. whispered, tensely. "Just a moment!"
 | An image should appear at this position in the text. To use the entire page scan as a placeholder, edit this page and replace "{{missing image}}" with "{{raw image|An orchard princess (IA orchardprincess00barbiala).pdf/114}}". Otherwise, if you are able to provide the image then please do so. For guidance, see Wikisource:Image guidelines and Help:Adding images. |  |
Miles drew back. Even Bistre,
sniffing for attention, understood, and
sat down to wait patiently for
caresses. For a long minute the brush
flew here and there in short, telling
strokes of fresh, vivid green. Then
the girl paused, sighed, leaned back,
and, with a tiny start of recollection,
turned to Miles. Her eyes, wide with
fervor, looked into his for an instant
questioningly. Then,—
"Oh!" she said. Down fluttered the white sleeves, a slim hand sought her hair, and in some mysterious way the white skirt dropped decorously to the ground. "I—I didn't hear you come," she said.
"No, you were very intent on your canvas." In spite of his efforts, his tone held a suggestion of grievance.
