"Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie…."
Anthony stared at her open-mouthed. Her throat felt as though it had steel bands about it. She just smiled and sang on.
"There I couch when owls do cry,
When owls do cry,
When owls do cry…."
The leaves of the lime-trees beyond the green box wall were trembling—she could see them—beginning to bob up and down. The boughs themselves were beginning to sway elastically. Valerie sang like a book.
"On a bat's back do I fly, After sunset, merrily, merrily, After sunset merrily…."
The lime-trees had stopped trembling. The breeze had passed…. An exultant note swept into the melody.
"Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough—
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough—
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough."
With a fine, happy smile, Lyveden heard the song out.
Then he stepped to my lady and caught her two hands.
"Exquisite," he said, glowing. "Exquisite, Valerie. I never knew you had such a lovely voice."