Frantically she sought for a distraction. Her brain, however, was away, with the bit in its teeth. She could do nothing with it. The only thing she could think of was that dreadful pass, which Anthony was straining every nerve to recall. This rose up vivid. His reference to the kiss he had given her—her soft reply—the way he had taken her in his arms—then that mischievous breeze that had come whispering out of the silence, remindful, suggestive—the start he had given at its touch—the hoarse cry—the terrible light in his eyes….
Anthony gave a great shout.
"I know," he panted jubilantly. "I know…. It's coming back, darling, it's coming back—bit by bit. Then I spoke of that kiss. I said how sorry I was and asked your forgiveness. And you said——" He stopped suddenly and clapped a hand over his mouth. After a moment, "'Sh," he said shakily. "I mustn't repeat your words. That'd be moving. And we mustn't move, Valerie. We're just at the edge of the pit. We mustn't move an inch till I can see where it is. Don't be frightened, dear. It's all right. All our happiness depends upon my remembering, and—it's coming back…."
His voice faded, and in an instant he was deep in thought.
Eyes narrowed, his under-lip caught between his teeth, he stared fixedly ahead, making a supreme effort—plainly.
Valerie stood spellbound.
A pompous hum argued that the fat bee had decided to revisit the vicinity.
Far in the distance there was a movement—leaves shaken with the wind. A breeze was passing. The timber of the park murmured the news faintly…. With a sigh the tall elms of the avenue confirmed the park's report. A breeze was passing … coming … a little mischievous breeze….
For one long moment Valerie's heart stood still.
Then she threw back her head and began to sing.