"Friend," said I, "the indecency of your suggestion is almost grotesque. To impose upon a timid, trusting Thou is either base or dastardly—I forget which. I am glad none of the others were here to hear what I feel sure to have been but a thoughtless, idle word. I shan't say anything about it, so no one, except you and me, will ever know; and even if I cannot ever forget, I shall come to forgive it in years to come."
"Time will heal the wound, brother. Till then, where's the jig-saw?"
"An evil beast hath devoured it. It is, without doubt, rent in pieces."
"In which case I shall prefer a bill of indictment against you as accessory for mutilation next autumn assize. I warn you."
"Thanks! I shall see you at dinner, shan't I? Not that I want to, but I just shall."
Berry sighed. "From your manner, more than from what you say, anyone would think you wanted me to go, old chap. Of course, I know you, so it doesn't matter; but you ought to be more careful. No, I've not taken offence, because I know none was meant; but I'm going to go just to teach you a lesson. Yes, I am. Give my love to Thou, won't you?"
"Certainly not! She's had one shock already this afternoon."
"Oh, was to-day the first time she'd seen you?"
He strolled back to the house. When I heard his footsteps on the gravel again, I got up and peered through the rhododendrons. I watched him go indoors, and turned to see the girl once more on her knees by the jig-saw. I kneeled opposite her and watched her at work. After a moment she glanced up and met my eyes.
"You'll see the picture better from this side," she said.