"There you go! You said mine. That shows. Men are all alike. They say yours. But they mean mine."
"This man don't," he said fiercely. "Anyway, it's from other men I want to protect you. You're too beautiful—"
"Jimmy, you can give me something that folk won't know what it means like a ring. Something pretty, and different like."
"You do love me, don't you?" he asked, stroking her hair.
She gave a comforting little grunt, something like a cat purring in acquiescent gratification of the senses. "M-m," she purred.
"A watch and chain!" cried Jimmy, inspired. "Will you have a watch and chain?"
She considered. "Yes, I'd like a watch and chain, 'cause then I'd know the time to get up, without old Charley Bye calling me."
He wanted to say—"Some morning the watch will tell you it's time to get married," but he was afraid of making her withdraw from him. He must not urge her, this spirited creature; he must give her time to realize the tenderness of his devotion to her, time to get used to the idea of marriage.
Now he could only hope to hold her by being a pleasant-like companion to her so that she wouldn't be chafing against a fancied curb. He would tell her about the crows that lived in the wood beyond the lagoon. Many a morning he had risen an hour earlier that he might spend the time watching them, so wild, so free, slaves to no factory whistle.
Across the lagoon stood the dark pine wood, remnant of the ancient forest not yet destroyed. The tapering tree-tops rose like delicate minarets against the morning
