feel all you do. I have seen her." She turned to Neeld. "Oh, how I wish you had!" she cried.
Her earnestness stirred a little curiosity in Harry. He glanced with his old wariness at Neeld. But what could he see save a kindly precise old gentleman, who was unimportant to him but seemed interested in what he said. He turned back to Mina, asking:
"A new way of mine?"
"Well, not quite. You were rather like it once. But generally you've got a veil before your face. Or perhaps you're really changed?"
He thought for a moment. "Things change a man." And he added, "I'm only twenty-two."
"Yes, I know," she smiled, "though I constantly forget it all the same."
"Well, twenty-three, come the twentieth of July," said he. His eyes were on hers, his characteristic smile on his lips. It was a challenge to her.
"I shan't forget the date," she answered, answering his look too. He sighed lightly; he was assured that she was with him.
The twentieth of July! The Editor of Mr Cholderton's Journal sat by listening; he raised no voice in protest.
"I must get back," said Harry. "Walk with me to the dip of the hill."