They looked up at the moon and the stars and the unfathomable sky. It took them at once away from the streets and the subject of their talk. Both sighed as they stared upwards, lost in the beauty before them. And when at last their eyes dropped, the street lamps had become so yellow and tawdry that they were like stupid spangles in contrast with the stars. Alf still held Emmy's arm so snugly within his own, and her wrist was within the clasp of his fingers. It was so little a thing to slide his fingers into a firm clasp of her hand, and they drew closer. "Lovely, eh!" Alf ejaculated, with a further upward lift of his eyes. Emmy sighed again. "Not like down here," she soberly said. "No, it's different. Down here's all right, though," Alf assured her. "Don't you think it is?" He gave a rather nervous little half laugh. "Don't you think it is?" "Grand!" Emmy agreed, with the slightest hint of dryness. "I say, it was awfully good of you to come to-night," said Alf. "I've ... you've enjoyed it, haven't you?" He was looking sharply at her, and Emmy's face was illumined. He saw her soft cheeks, her thin, soft little neck; he felt her warm gloved hand within his own. "D'you mind?" he asked, and bent abruptly so that their faces were close together. For a moment, feeling so daring that his breath caught, Alf could not carry out his threat. Then, roughly, he pushed his face against hers, kissing her. Quickly he released Emmy's arm, so that his own might be more protectingly employed; and they stood embraced in the moonlight. viii It was only for a minute, for Emmy, with instinctive secrecy, drew away into the shadow. At first Alf did not understand, and thought himself repelled; but Emmy's hands were invitingly raised. The first delight was broken. One more sensitive might have found it hard to recapture; but Alf stepped quickly to her side in the shadow, and they kissed again. He was surprised at her passion. He had not expected it, and the flattery was welcome. He grinned a little in the safe darkness, consciously and even sheepishly, but with eagerness. They were both clumsy and a little trembling, not very practised lovers, but curious and excited. Emmy felt her hat knocked a little sideways upon her head. It was Emmy who moved first, drawing herself away from him, she knew not why. "Where you going?" asked Alf, detaining her. "What is it? Too rough, am I?" He could not see Emmy's shaken head, and was for a moment puzzled at the ways of woman--so far from his grasp. "No," Emmy said. "It's wonderful." Peering closely, Alf could see her eyes shining. "D'you think you're fond enough of me, Emmy?" She demurred. "That's a nice thing to say! As if it was for me to tell you!" she whispered archly back. "What ought I to say? I'm not ... mean to say, I don't know how to say things, Emmy. You'll have to put up with my rough ways. Give us a kiss, old sport."