"Our poplars are getting their leaves," she said. "It's strange that I have never seen your garden. Are there any trees in it?"
He sat like a half-empty sack of grain, and slowly, with an effort, he raised his head. "What did you say?"
"Have you any trees in your garden?"
"There's a holly bush in the front and one of those thin trees that have berries—red berries."
"A rowan! Oh, I'm glad you have a rowan!" She looked as though he had made a gift to her.
He was born to ask questions. "Why?" he said, with his first gleam of interest.
"Oh, I like them. Is there a garden at the back?"
"Apple-trees," he sighed. "No fruit."
"They must want pruning. You know, gardening would do you good."
He shook his head. "Too long in the back."