‘We’ll see about that,’ said he. ‘And you think from your experience, Harrison, that it is not so very bad after all?’
‘Oh no. It soon passes.’
‘Soon! What do you mean by soon?’
‘Jordan was there six hours the first time.’
‘Good God! Six hours!’ Frank wiped his forehead. ‘They must have seemed six years.’
‘They were rather long. I kept on working in the garden. That’s the tip. Keep on doing something and it helps you along wonderfully.’
‘That’s a good suggestion, Harrison. What a curious smell there is in the air! Do you notice a sort of low, sweetish, spirity kind of scent? Well, perhaps it’s my imagination. I dare say that my nerves are a bit strung up these days. But that is a capital idea of yours about having some work to do. I should like to work madly for those hours. Have everything up out of the back garden and plant it all again in the front.’
Harrison laughed.
‘I’ll tell you something less heroic,’ said he; ‘you could keep all these bulbs, and pot them then. By the way, I’ll go round and get the others. Don’t bother about the door. I shall leave it open, for I won’t be five minutes.’
‘And I’ll put these in the greenhouse,’ said Frank. He took the basket of bulbs and he laid them all out on the wooden shelf of the tiny conservatory which leaned against the back of the house. When he came out there was a kitten making a noise somewhere. It was a low sound, but persistent, coming in burst after burst. He took the rake and jabbed with the handle amongst the laurel bushes under their bedroom window. The beast might waken Maude, and so it was worth some trouble to dislodge it. He could not see it, but when he had poked among the bushes and cried ‘Skat!’ several times, the crying died away, and he carried his empty basket into the dining-room. There he lit his pipe again, and waited for Harrison’s return.