"No, I went up on Tuesday as you know, and slept that night at the Hull Hotel, a small house in one of the Strand side streets. Last night, I joined you at Southberry."
"And it is now Thursday," said Herrick laughing. "How particular you are as to detail Robin. Well, Southberry is a goodish way behind us now and Saxham is our next resting place. Feel better?"
"Yes, thanks. In another quarter of an hour, I shall make the attempt to reach Saxham. But we are so late, I fear no bed----"
"Oh, that's alright. We can wake the landlord, I calculate we have only three miles."
"Quite enough too. By the way Jim, what did you do, when I left you?"
In the semi-darkness Herrick chuckled. "Fell in love!" said he.
"H'm! You lost no time about it. And she?"
"A daughter of the gods, divinely tall; dark hair, creamy skin, sea-blue eyes the figure and gait of Diana, and--"
"More of the Celt than the Greek," interrupted Joyce, "blue eyes, black hair, that is the Irish type. Where did you see her?"
"In Southberry Church, talking to a puny curate, who did not deserve such a companion. Oh, Robin, her voice! like an Eolian harp."