"Well, what about this house?"
"I shan't let it."
"Will you live here?"
"No. I'm going to George, but no one else shall have it. I don't think the Pinderwells would be happy. Is there any furniture you want? You can have anything except what's in the dining-room. That's for Zebedee. His own is hideous."
To Zebedee she said, "You'll take it, won't you?"
"I've always taken everything you've given me," he said, and with the words they seemed to look at each other fairly for the last time.
"And don't have any more dead ferns," she told him. "There was one in the dining-room the other day. You must keep fresh flowers on Mr. Pinderwell's table."
"I shall remember."
Nothing was left in the house except the picture of Mr. Pinderwell's bride, who smiled as prettily on the empty room as on the furnished one.
"She must stay with Mr. Pinderwell," Helen said. "What would he do if he found her gone? I wonder if they'll miss us."