“You went with Hallam, I suppose?” he said. And, without waiting for her reply, added: “I think you might have remembered that it was my last morning. I would have taken you to see the sun rise if you had expressed the desire. I counted on a last walk.”
“I walked with you last night,” she said, surprised at the extravagance of his demands.
“I am not forgetting that,” he said, with less aggression in his manner. “But my last morning... I think it was a little unkind. There will be plenty of opportunities for sun-gazing after I have gone. I am full up with things I want to say to you, and you seem such a long way off, perched up there.”
She laughed, and twisted round on the sill preparatory to alighting.
“Look the other way for a minute. I’m coming out.”
He swung round with a pleased smile, and before she realised what he was about he had seized her by the waist and lifted her down. She stood on the grass beside him and surveyed him with amazed eyes.
“Well!” she said.
“It was by far the easier way,” he excused himself. “I have a couple of chairs fixed up under the trees. It’s jolly and cool in the garden.”
He led her to the spot he had selected and settled her in one of the two canvas chairs, which faced towards a little arbour covered with a pale, cool-looking creeper with long sprays of minute white blossoms thrusting out between the leaves. The chairs had been placed at the end of the roughly made path, and stood side by side with their backs towards the house. Esmé dropped into one, and looked about her with lazy satisfaction. It was restful out here under the trees, and strangely quiet. The hum of the bees sounded reposeful in the sunny stillness. She felt very tired, and was glad to sit still. She did not want to talk. But it was not possible to sit in silence with this man, as it was with Hallam. The necessity to make conversation was imperative. It surprised and puzzled her that this was so.
She glanced at Sinclair curiously, and discovered him, with his face turned towards her, observing her intently. He smiled when he met her eyes with their curious questioning look; his own expressed admiration, and something more, which he strove to suppress.