She passed out, and he followed and locked the door. As they crossed the turf to the highroad, she slipped her arm into his. "I feel safe, that way. Let it stay, co!" After a few paces, she added, "You're different from the others--that's why I like you."
"I dunno; but you _be_ diff'rent. You don't think about girls, for one thing."
Taffy did not answer. He felt angry, ashamed, uncomfortable. He did not turn once to look at her face, dimly visible by the light of the young moon--the Hunter's moon--now sinking over the slope of the hill. Thick dust--too thick for the heavy dew to lay--covered the cart-track down to the farm, muffling their footsteps. Lizzie paused by the gate.
"Best go in separate," she said; paused again and whispered, "You may, if you like."
They were face to face now. She held up her lips, and as she did so, they parted in an amorous murmurous little laugh. The moonlight was on her face. Taffy bent swiftly and kissed her.
"Oh, you hurt!" With another little laugh, she slipped up the garden-path and into the house.
Ten minutes later Taffy followed, hating himself.
For the next fortnight he avoided her; and then, late one evening, she came again. He was prepared for this, and had locked the door of the smithy and let down the shutter while he worked. She tapped upon the outside of the shutter with her knuckles.
"Can't you leave me alone?" he answered, pettishly. "I want to work, and you interrupt."
"I don't want no love-making--I don't indeed. I'll sit quiet as a mouse. But I'm afeared, out here."
"I'm afeared o' the ghost. There's something comin'--let me in, co!"
Taffy unlocked the door and held it half open while he listened.
"Yes, there's somebody coming, on horseback. Now, look here--it's no ghost, and I can't have you about here, with people passing. I--I don't want you here at all; so make haste and slip away home--that's a good girl."
Lizzie glided like a shadow into the dark lane as the trample of hoofs drew close, and the rider pulled up beside the door.
"You're working late, I see. Is it too late to make a shoe for Aide-de-camp here?"
It was Honoria. She dismounted and stood in the doorway, holding her horse's bridle.
"No," said Taffy; "that is, if you don't mind the waiting."