"Such a jolly little place," he mused. "You could have such fun—and be yourself. I wonder why it reminds me so of something—before the days of the clock, before we knew."
He sighed, and suddenly stopped in order to contemplate the two figures seated together on the stile. Rose was asleep in Arthur's arms.
"Don't bother," said the Clockwork man, as Arthur stirred slightly, "I'm not going that way. I shall go back the way I came."
"Oh," said Arthur, smitten with embarrassment, "then I shan't see you again?"
"Not for a few thousand years," replied the Clockwork man, with a slight twisting of his lip. "Perhaps never."
"Are you better now?" Arthur enquired.
"I'm working alright, if that's what you mean," said the other, averting his eyes. Then he looked very hard at Rose, and the expression on his features altered to mild astonishment.
"Why are you holding that other person like that?" he asked.
"She's my sweetheart," Arthur replied.
"You must explain that to me. I've forgotten the formula."