“What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me in that way?”
She continued gazing at him in silence. And then he saw that her eyes had filled with tears even while they were on his face.
“My dear girl, what’s the matter? Who has been saying what to you, and why?” he asked.
She pointed to the envelopes in his hand. He glanced down at them, saying:
“What—what’s the matter here?”
She shook her head and then turned away, and he knew that her tears had begun to fall.
In a moment he perceived all.
She heard him laugh, and raised her head, trying to disguise her tears.
She saw the smile that was on his face as he tore in two each unopened cover, and then tore the two in four, and the four into eight, tossing the fragments over the balustrade of the terrace on to the roof of a great pyramid bay below. The act was one of great untidiness, but she easily forgave him, garden worshipper and all though she was. She stretched a white hand across the table to him eagerly, and once again her eyes were moist.
“My dear boy! My dear boy! You mean to stay?” she whispered.