He knelt beside her chair and let his head fall upon her silken shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re in your own room,” Michael sighed in answer.
Outside, a muffin-man went ringing through the sombre Sabbath chill; and sometimes, disturbing the monotonous railings above the area, absurd legs were seen hurrying to their social tasks. No other sign was given of a life that went on unaware of these two on whom time showered twenty golden minutes.
“Mother and Doris will be back at four,” Lily said. “Is my face flushed?”
Fresh carnations would have seemed faded near her, when she looked at Michael for an answer.
“Only very slightly,” he reassured her.
“Come up to the drawing-room,” she commanded.
“Can I look at your dolls’ house?” Michael asked.
“That old thing,” said Lily scornfully.
Reverently he pulled aside the front of the battered dwelling-place, and saw the minute furniture higgledy-piggledy.