Joyce knew there was some secret here too beautiful to be said. Bunny could not tell her, it must be guessed.
“Is it something I gave him?”
“Something you’d like to keep.”
“Is it the mouse? Bunny, how can we find it? That was a lifetime ago.”
“Perhaps it’s in the nursery. In the old toy cupboard.”
“I’ll get it in the morning.”
“That may be too late. Now, to-night.”
“Oh Bunny, tell me plainly. Is it the mouse you mean?”
She was tugging fiercely to raise the screen, jammed in its grooves. Her fingers still tingled from the sharp edges of the shallow metal sockets. Only the empty garden, the sinking candy-peel moon beyond the black arc of hill.
The impression was vivid upon her. There was only one thing to do, she must go through the sleeping house to Martin’s room, rouse him, tell him at once. She rose from bed and opened the door.