"And Margaret was very sympathetic, you know," he went on. "Really, if it hadn't been for her, I should never have dared to tell you I loved you. We talked about her and Richard...."
"Margaret does love him. She does," Pauline declared. "Only she will ask herself questions all the time."
How she changed when she was speaking of Richard, thought Guy a little jealously. Why could she not say out clearly like that her love for him?
"You do love me this morning?" he asked. She was standing on the step of the stile, and he offered his hand to help her down. "Won't you say 'I love you'?"
But only with her eyes could she tell him, and as, her finger-tips on his, she jumped from the step, she was imponderable as the blush upon her cheeks.
"In the summer," said Guy, "you and I will be on the river together. Will you be shy when Summer comes?"
"Monica says I'm not nearly shy enough."
"What on earth does Monica expect?"
They were under the trees of Wychford Abbey, and Guy told her of the days he had spent here, thinking of her and of the hopelessness of her loving him.
"I could not imagine you would love me. Why do you?"