Her arms held him tightly in a mute embrace. She kissed him with a yearning tenderness.
Bunny drew back and looked at her with sudden, close attention. "Maud, what's the matter? Tell me what's the matter!"
She was smiling, a strangely drawn smile. Not for the first time he became conscious of the veil of reserve that hung between them. He strove with it indignantly, seeking to tear it aside.
"Maud, tell me, I say! You would have told me in the old days."
She caught back an involuntary sigh. "You were older then, Bunny."
"I wasn't!" he declared. "What rot!"
"Ah well," she said gently, "things were different in those days."
And suddenly there came to Bunny--Bunny who had lain and watched life so long that his eyes had grown tired with watching--one of the old shrewd flashes of enlightenment, solving the mystery.
He held her very tightly, his face burning red. "Say, Maud--old girl, is it--is it--I know what it is!"
"Don't, Bunny!" she whispered inarticulately.