“Will you come a little walk with me?”
Mr. Stone bowed.
Hilary turned to the little model. “It is goodbye, then,” he said.
She did not take his hand. Her eyes, turned sideways, glinted; her teeth were fastened on her lower lip. She dropped the lilies, suddenly looked up at him, gulped, and slunk away. In passing she had smeared the lilies with her foot.
Hilary picked up the fragments of the flowers, and dropped them into the grate. The fragrance of the bruised blossoms remained clinging to the air.
“Shall we get ready for our walk?” he said.
Mr. Stone moved feebly to the door, and very soon they were walking silently towards the Gardens.