“I wonder,” she murmured to herself, and leaned further out to look after the vanishing figure, “what it feels like to be in love...”
A sudden sense of chill touched her. The moon vanished behind a cloud, and a little cold breeze sprang up and played on her bare neck and arms. The garden showed dark with the white light withdrawn, dark and deserted. A shadowed loneliness had fallen on the spirit of the night.
Chapter Four.
“I want,” Prudence said in her soft appealing voice, “the sum of fifty pounds.”
Mr Graynor looked not unnaturally amazed. Prudence’s wants had never assumed such extravagant proportions before: it puzzled him to understand what she could possibly require to necessitate the demand for so large a sum, and, because he had only a few hours earlier refused to listen to another outrageous request of hers and told her a little harshly that there were matters with which she should not concern herself, he hoped, despite a general reluctance to part with money, that this further demand was one he could treat more generously. He put a large shaky hand on her curls and tilted her head back and smiled into the wide blue eyes.
“Fifty pounds, eh?” he said. “That’s a big sum, Prue.”
“You’ll let me have it?” she asked, and clasped her hands round his arm.
“That depends,” he answered, “on what you want it for.”