"Well, are you happy?"
"Margaret, you've been beyond words good to me."
"Always be happy," she said.
Even Monica whispered to him that he was lucky, and Guy was so deeply impressed at being whispered to by Monica that it gave him a little courage for his interview. He joined the Rector in the garden punctually at two, and worked hard with labels and classifications.
"A7," the Rector read out. "A lavender twice as big as Lady Grizel Hamilton. D21. An orange that will not burn. Humph! I don't believe it. Do you believe that, Birdwood?"
The gardener shook his head.
"There never was an orange as didn't burn like a house on fire the moment the sun set eyes on it."
"Of course it'll burn, and anyhow there's no such thing as an orange sweet-pea. If there is, it's Henry Eckford."
"Henry isn't orange," said Birdwood. "Leastways not an orange like you get at Christmas."
"More buff?"