"Not even a cow in sight," Guy commented in well satisfied tones. "I shall be sorry when the hay is cut, and people and cattle can come here again."
"People and cattle! How naughty you are, Guy. As if they were just the same!"
"Well, practically you know, as far as we're concerned, there isn't very much difference."
For a long while they sat by the edge of the stream in their fragrant seclusion.
"Dearest," Pauline sighed. "Why can I listen to you all day, and yet whenever anybody else talks to me, why do I feel as if I were only half awake?"
"Because even when you're not with me," said Guy, "you're still really with me. That's why. You see you're still listening to me."
This was a pleasant explanation; but Pauline was anxious to be reassured about what Margaret had hinted was a deterioration in her character lately.
"Perhaps we are a little selfish. But we won't be, when we're married."
Guy had been scribbling on an envelope which he now handed to her; and she read:
Mrs. Guy Hazlewood
Plashers Mead
Wychford
Oxon.