“I feel in a better temper now,” said Robinette. “Who could be angry, and look at that beautiful thing? I’ve left dear old Nurse quite happy again, and I haven’t yet offended Aunt de Tracy irrevocably, and all because you persuaded me not to be unreasonable. All the same I could do it again in another minute if I let myself go. Doesn’t injustice ever make people angry in England?”
Lavendar laughed. “It often makes me feel angry, but I’ve never found that throwing the reins on the horses’ necks when they 271 wanted to bolt, made one go along the right road any faster in the end.”
“I often think,” said Robinette, “if we could see people really angry and disagreeable before we––” She hesitated and added, “get to know them well, we should be so much more careful.”
“Yes,” said Mark, bending down his head and speaking very deliberately, “that’s why I wish you could have seen me in all my worst moments. I’d stand the shame of it, if you could only know, but, alas, one can’t show off one’s worst moments to order; they must be hit upon unexpectedly.”
“I don’t believe thirty years of life would teach one about some people––they are so crevicey,” said Robinette musingly. She had risen and leaned against the plum tree for a moment, looking up through the white branches.
Lavendar rose and stood beside her. “Thirty years––I shall be getting on to seventy in thirty years.”
A little gust of wind shook the tree; some petals came drifting down upon them, like white moths, like flakes of summer snow, a warning that the brief hour of perfection would soon be past ... and under it human creatures were talking about thirty years!