EVELYN lay soaking in sunlight on the hill over looking the pine woods, crushed grasses and wild strawberries staining her dress. She watched a blue-green beetle traveling through the forest of grass stalks, she rolled over on her back and saw two butterflies quivering together, saw piled golden-white clouds—what a large egg beater God must use! Life tingled about her, within her.
Joe was gathering fragrant wild strawberries that were scarlet through the grass. He moved from patch to patch; he went over the edge of the hill and was hidden. Yet he was no more separated from her than her hand was when she lifted it to shield her eyes from the sun. If the world was between them they would be together.
No need to tell each other how happy they were, off this way by themselves. But she hadn't been happy at 29 Chestnut Street.
Mrs. Green was kind. Evelyn dreaded going out, because when she came back she was sure to find that Kate had washed her silk stockings for her, or blancoed her shoes. Every day there were exhausting contests in nobility, always won by Kate. One place in Mrs. Driggs' car—Evelyn must have the ride. One perfect
