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Show Page 172 "He is indeed," I laughed. "He bit me on my chin whilst pretending to give me a kiss. And he grinned when Anne scolded him. Methinks she and Cisly will have their hands full with the flame-headed moppet. But oh, it's good to see Anne her old happy self again. I suspect it has something to do with the new babe expected come summer." John and I had taken to visiting Anne and Cisly often during the long winter evenings. I would take along a bundle of mending, John a piece of ash to carve into a new spoon or a mottled maple knot to form into a bowl, as Rawhunt had taught him. At times we came empty-handed and sat helping Cisly shell corn. I enjoyed those evenings, for John and I had become good friends over the past year. I jumped when John's hand reached out and grasped mine, my heart fluttering as I walked through the night at his side. It was not the first time he had held me thus, but all other times snow had lain upon the ground and he used the slippery footing as an excuse to take my hand. Now there was no snow and I felt quite flustered by his attention. I believe John felt so, too, for when he spoke his voice gave a little squeak before it settled once again, and then he spoke rapidly as though fearing he might run out of breath ere he finished. "I must remember to return your copy of Ovid's |