"These faint likenesses are not unusual," said Winston, and once more Maud Barrington looked at him steadily.
"No," she said, "of course not. Well, we will conclude that my fancies ran away with me, and be practical. What is wheat doing just now?"
"Rising still," said Winston, and regretted the alacrity with which he had seized the opportunity of changing the topic when he saw that it had not escaped the notice of his companion. "You and I and a few others will be rich this year."
"Yes, but I am afraid some of the rest will find it has only further anxieties for them."
"I fancy," said Winston, "you are thinking of one."
Maud Barrington nodded. "Yes. I am sorry for him."
"Then it would please you if I tried to straighten out things for him? It would be difficult, but I believe it could be accomplished."
Maud Barrington's eyes were grateful, but there was something that Winston could not fathom behind her smile.
"If you undertook it. One could almost believe you had the wonderful lamp," she said.
Winston smiled somewhat dryly. "Then all its virtues will be tested to-night, and I had better make a commencement while I have the courage. Colonel Barrington is in?"