“You see Amanda has some friends at Limpsfield. And there they all go out and camp and sleep in the woods.”
“Of course,” reflected Mrs. Wilder, “in April it must be different.”
“It IS different,” said Benham with feeling; “the night comes five hours too soon. And it comes wet.” He described his experiences and his flight to Shere and the kindly landlord and the cup of coffee. “And after that I thought with a vengeance.”
“Do you write things?” asked Amanda abruptly, and it seemed to him with a note of hope.
“No. No, it was just a private puzzle. It was something I couldn't get straight.”
“And you have got it straight?” asked Amanda.
“I think so.”
“You were making up your mind about something?”
“Amanda DEAR!” cried her mother.
“Oh! I don't mind telling you,” said Benham.