Romer started to go by himself for a five-mile walk, leaving Daphne, Valentia and Harry in the garden, but a nail in his boot hurt so much that, after the first half-mile, Romer decided he couldn't stand it any longer, and would walk back, go quietly in, and then surprise them by coming to tea in the garden.
He was gone a very short time, but he hastened his steps, looking forward immensely to the removal of the boot, and also to seeing Valentia again.
Lately he had been more than ever devoted to her. Ever since they had been at the Green Gate she had been specially gentle and charming—but not nearly so lively as usual. Sometimes she looked quite anxious and preoccupied. He thought, too, that she was occasionally irritable; which was unlike her—and her spirits varied continually.
He asked her one day what was the matter, and she assured him that there was nothing, so he believed her. But he was always thinking about her, trying to find some means to please her. He was dissatisfied about her.
He came back, went into his room, and his spirits incalculably raised by the cessation of the torture, he went and sat by the window, and looked out at the lovely garden.
It was a hot summer day; a little wind was in the trees.
Exactly under the window, on the little verandah, sat Harry with Valentia. Daphne was no longer there.
They were talking; and talking, it seemed to him, in an agitated way.
Leaning a little over he could see Valentia on a bamboo chair. To his horror he saw that she was crying.
Harry, speaking in a suppressed but rather angry voice, appeared to be trying to comfort her.