” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her. ” Anna had suddenly stiffened. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. ’ She eyed him.
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