Short Stories » Peace



HE looked over his shoulder quickly. She saw him, and turned still more quickly away. "I shall go and take a long walk in the woods," he said.

"You don't know where the rabbit-holes are," she answered.

"Yes, I do ; I found them out the other day."

“I shall go out with Mary."

"All right."

“And I shall never go into the woods with you any more."

"Very well. I don't care," he said. Then she broke down and sobbed.

“You are a very unkind boy."

“It’s all your fault."

"No, it's all yours. You began."

"No, you began."

“You don't like me now," she sobbed.

"Yes, I do."

“You said I was a nasty, disagreeable thing."

"Well, I didn't mean it if I did. You said I was an ugly, unkind boy."

"Oh, but I didn't mean it," she said.

“You know I'm very fond of you."

“So am I of you."

"All right, then, let's make it up." So he turned round quickly and she turned round slowly, and he put his arms round her waist, and she put her hands up on to his shoulders, and they kissed each other, and hugged each other, and rubbed noses, and laughed.

“Shall we go to the woods? “she asked, doubtfully.

"Yes, come along."

“You said you'd go without me," she pouted.

"Oh, but I shouldn't have liked it a bit."

“And I should have been so unhappy," she said.

"And now we just will have a game," he answered, as hand-in-hand they went off as fast as they could scamper.

 
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