"If you were let out of your cage now, Dicky darling, would you know how to fly? Or would you have quite, quite forgotten how to, all these long, long years? But I think I know the secret, Dicky. I shall soon fly somehow, and they're going to make me either fly on earth, or else fly to heaven!"
Jean's eyes filled with sudden tears. Then, she stepped quickly across the room, and knelt down by the couch. Sunnie's arms were round her neck in an instant.
"My darling painter! You've come at last. Now I'm quite happy; and isn't it a wonderful happenings my being in London!"
"Now listen to me," put in Dr. Fergusson, as he pulled out his watch and shook it sternly in front of Sunnie. "Ten minutes' talk, and then Miss Desmond must go; those are my orders. She will come again another day."
Sunnie looked at him, a little saucily. "We shall have to talk very fast then, for there's ten million things, I want to tell her! This isn't my first visit to my painter in London, is it? You remember how I came before?"
She looked up at Jean with one of her mischievous glances.
"I've been to London very often since you've been here! I left my body behind, as I told you it was too hindering and stupid! Cousin Leslie never knew how I came—it was just a secret between me and you—and now I've come like everybody else does, by the train, with luggage, and it's a much stupider way, and it tires one so."
"But I love to see you here, Sunnie," said Jean, with her hand caressing the golden curls. "It has been such a pleasant surprise to me."
"And where has your little ill lady gone to?"
"Far away. She has a husband now, and doesn't want me."