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A Touch of the Sun
not offering to move. "I say, look at that moonrise."
His voice had lost some of its enthusiasm, and sounded tired. Deane, considering that the boy was homesick and perhaps needed bracing up, accepted the implied invitation, and sat down. The moon, climbing over the great Mound of the City, was turning the sky to intense blue-black; the earth to a slumbering sea of hoary light, wrapped in infinite loneliness and peace.
"It's bully," Deane assented unheedingly. Quickly it became plain to him that moonrises, usually conducive to poetic enthusiasms on Holloway's part, to-night held no attraction for him. He, generally brimming over with life and spirits, was suddenly distrait and listless.
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