Mrs. Cameron's sitting-room was in semi-darkness. Deirdre heard the hushed talking, exclamations and sound of weeping as she went into it.
"It's you, Deirdre!" Mrs. Cameron said when she saw the girl. Her voice was flat and tired; she seemed to have scarcely strength enough to speak.
Deirdre kissed her with quivering lips, and eyes welling.
The room was full of people. She did not see who they were at first in the half dark.
"If only Davey were here!" Mrs. Cameron cried.
Deirdre knelt beside her.
"Perhaps he'll come," she whispered.
"Did you gather the flowers for his father?"
Mrs. Cameron's eyes had fallen on the little bouquet in Deirdre's hands.
"I brought them for Davey," Deirdre said.