At that moment, quite near them, they heard a sound of laughter. It was soft and elfin, and was followed by the clear voice of a child.
“You’re a darling. You’re more beautiful than any one in the world.”
A turn in the path brought them within sight of a ruined fountain. In the center, on a pedestal, stood the statue of a boy, emptying an urn from which nothing fell. In the gray stone basin that went about the pedestal was a pool of water, lying glassy and untroubled. Through a hole in the trees sunlight slanted. Kneeling beside the edge of the basin was a little girl, stooping to kiss her own reflection.
“Desire.”
She started to her feet with the swiftness of a wild thing. She would have escaped if Hal had not caught her. Across his shoulder she gazed indignantly at Teddy.
“He saw me do that,” she said slowly.
Teddy gazed back at her and smiled. He wanted to laugh, but he was stayed by her immense seriousness.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You’re not one bit,” she retorted.
She struggled down from Hal’s arms. “You may shake hands with me if you like.”