The stars on the lake seemed to leap like grasshoppers, silver upon the blackness, as he spun past. Then there was the long climb home.
“See, mother!” he said, as he threw her the berries and leaves on to the table.
“H’m!” she said, glancing at them, then away again. She sat reading, alone, as she always did.
“Aren’t they pretty?”
“Yes.”
He knew she was cross with him. After a few minutes he said:
“Edgar and Miriam are coming to tea tomorrow.”