“Lettie. We’ve got notice, did you know?”
I started to my feet this time with amazement.
“Notice to leave?—what for?”
“Rabbits I expect. I wish she’d have me, Cyril.”
“To leave Strelley Mill!” I repeated.
“That’s it—and I’m rather glad. But do you think she might have me, Cyril?”
“What a shame! Where will you go? And you lie there joking——!”
“I don’t. Never mind about the damned notice. I want her more than anything.—And the more I look at these naked lines, the more I want her. It’s a sort of fine sharp feeling, like these curved lines. I don’t know what I’m saying—but do you think she’d have me? Has she seen these pictures?”
“No.”
“If she did perhaps she’d want me—I mean she’d feel it clear and sharp coming through her.”