"Do stay just as you are for a minute," cried the same voice, descending to English. "We are out after effects, and we want those poppies."
"Of course you do," said May, "but you can't have them."
"Yes, we can, if you'll only hold them in your hand and let us pilfer with our brushes. You won't lose a single poppy and we shall have them all."
"If you had any artistic sense you would rather have those tilting about on the shore," said May; "but if you prefer an indiscriminate mass of colour you are welcome."
Geoffry Daymond's companion meanwhile was paying his respects to Pauline and the Colonel, who were old acquaintances.
"May, you have never met Mr. Kenwick, I think," said Pauline.
"Oh, yes, I have," May declared; "but it was ages ago and he never would take any notice of me."
"Do let me make up for it now," Kenwick begged, rapidly setting his palette, by way of elucidating his request.
"How long ago is ages ago?" asked Daymond.
"Four years ago last winter," was the unhesitating reply. "It was when I was fifteen and Mr. Kenwick used to come to see my sisters."