He flung himself down on his side, her back against his shoulder, and with a shout they were off, whistling into the frosty night, shooting down the steep incline, faster and faster, rocking perilously, as the smooth, flat toboggan rose from the trough and tilted against the inclined sides, swerving back into place at a touch of his foot, rising and falling with the curved slopes, shooting past clustered trees that rushed by them like inky storm-clouds, flashing smoothly at last on to the level. "Lean to the left!" she called to him, as they reached a banked curve. "When?" "Now!" Her laugh rang out as they rose almost on the side and sped into the bend. "Hold tight, there's a jump in a minute-- Now!" Their bodies stiffened against each other, her hair sweeping into his eyes, blinding him as the toboggan rose fractionally from the ground and fell again. "Gorgeous!" "Wonderful!" They glided on smoothly, with slacking speed, a part of the stillness that lay like the soft fall of snow over the luminous stretches and the clustered mysterious shadows; without a word exchanged, held by the witchery of the night, and the soft, fairylike crackling voyage. Then gradually, imperceptibly, at last the journey ended. The toboggan came to a stop in a glittering region of white with a river bank and elfish bushes somewhere at their side, and ahead a dark rise against the horizon with lights like pin-pricks far off, and on the air, from nowhere, the tinkle of sleigh-bells, but faint, shaken by some will-o'-the-wisp perhaps. "Are you glad you came?" she said at last, without moving. "Very glad." "Think of sitting around talking society when you can get out here," she said indignantly. "Oh, Bojo, I'm never going to stand it. I think I'll take the veil." He laughed, but softly, with the feeling of one who understands, as though in that steep plunge the icy air had cleansed his brain of all the hot, fierce worldly desires for money, power, and vanities which had possessed it like a fever. "I wish we could sit here like this for hours," she said, unconsciously resting against his shoulder. "I wish we could, too, Drina," he answered, meditating. She glanced back at him. "I like you to call me Drina," she said. "Drina when you are serious, Patsie when you are trying to upset sleighs." "Yes, there are two sides of me, but no one knows the other." She sat a moment as though hesitating on a confidence, and suddenly sprang up. "Game for another?" "A dozen others!" They caught up the rope together, but suddenly serious she stopped. "Bojo?" "What?" "Sometimes I think you and Doris are not a bit in love." "What makes you think that?" he said, startled. "I don't know--you don't act--not as I would act--not as I should think people would act in love. Am I awfully impertinent?" Troubled, he made no answer. "Nothing is decided, of course," he said at last, rather surprised at the avowal.