She had known the wood between
Summer Street and Windy Corner ever since she could walk alone;
she had played at losing Freddy in it, when Freddy was a
purple-faced baby; and though she had been to Italy, it had lost
none of its charm.
Presently they came to a little clearing among the pines--another
tiny green alp, solitary this time, and holding in its bosom a
shallow pool.
She exclamed, "The Sacred Lake!"
"Why do you call it that?"
"I can't remember why. I suppose it comes out of some book. It's
only a puddle now, but you see that stream going through it?
Well, a good deal of water comes down after heavy rains, and
can't get away at once, and the pool becomes quite large and
beautiful. Then Freddy used to bathe there. He is very fond of
it."
"And you?"
He meant, "Are you fond of it?" But she answered dreamily, "I
bathed here, too, till I was found out. Then there was a row."
At another time he might have been shocked, for he had depths of
prudishness within him.
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