"One second," said Harry pleadingly. "It's cruel of you to go now."
"I thought you said we'd better get back?"
"Your hands look so lovely by this light," he spoke in his softest voice.
"We really must go."
"Then at half-past three. I'll bring my sketchbook. Do you know where the key is? Perhaps you've lost it. You are so dreadfully careless." He now spoke in the tone of a reproving husband.
"I've got it. Do you think we'd better? I'm rather tired. Shall you be able to wake?"
Harry turned away.
"All right, it doesn't matter, Val. I shall be going soon, and then——"
She followed him quickly.
"No, no, Harry. Of course."