"And I hit him on the nose!" says I.
"And he ran away, Martin."
"And you bathed my lip in the pool and afterwards you—you—"
"Yes I did, Martin. Though 'tis a long time to remember."
"I—shall never forget!" says I. "Shall you?"
Here she buries her face in her flowers again.
"As to the pots, Martin, there are four quite unbroken, will you help me bear them to our refuge, breakfast will be ready."
"Breakfast is a sweet word!" quoth I. "And as to these things, if you will have them, well and good!"
And thus, she with her flowers and I with the gallipots, we came to our habitation.
"What do we work at to-day?" she questioned as we rose from our morning meal.