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Posco and Lily entered the Inn together, hand in hand, though the former seemed uneasy about the arrangement. He hoped that anyone who might look at them would think they were merely good friends, and not that they had a deeper fondness for one another. It seemed foolish to be so worried. Anyone in the Inn would have to know that they had never previously met to think it improper for them to love each other within the duration of a few days, and nobody in the Inn knew that. Besides, Lily was happy with her hand in his, and that was enough for him.
She tripped laughingly to the window, and he followed her with a happy heart. Her hair bounced upon her shoulders, and her feet skipped lightly over the wooden floor. She pressed her little nose on the window-pane, and then made a gesture. "See, Posco?" she said. "What a fine day it is for a ride!"
"Fine indeed," said Posco, "and I am looking forward to it as much as a hobbit can."
She turned to him with shining eyes. "Will we go riding at your home, Posco? Through the wildflowers and by the river, and under the moon and stars when evening has fallen?"
"Whenever you like," he said, with all the simplicity of a lad in love, who would do anything for his dear one. She gave him a loving, grateful smile, and then they went to a table.
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