Soho Square held the heart of autumn that afternoon. London had surrendered this quiet corner to pastoral meditation. Here, among the noise of many sparrows and sibilance of dead leaves on the unfrequented pavement, one realized in the perishable hour's flight the immortality of experience.
"More birds," said Jenny.
"Don't they make a row and don't the leaves look ripping in this light?"
"There's another one getting excited over the day."
"Well, it is superb," said Maurice. "Only I wish there weren't such a smell of pickles. I say, would you mind going on ahead and then turning back and meeting me?"
"Oo-er, whatever for?"
"I want to see how jolly you'd look coming round the corner under the trees."
"You are funny."
"I suppose you think I'm absurd. But really, you know, you do look like a Dresden shepherdess with your heart-shaped face and slanting eyes."
"Thanks for those few nuts."