David, used to the rapid assimilation of details, saw all this at a glance. Then he crossed to the table in the other window. It had been laid so that it faced hers, and fearing lest he should appear guilty of an obtrusive staring, he gazed out of the window.
The arrival of his breakfast providing occupation for hands and eyes, David turned to the table. A moment later he found that the sugar had been forgotten.
Now, the Green Man is devoid of bells. In some ways it is distinctly primitive. A brass knocker on the front door announces the arrival of visitors. For the rest your own vocal cords are employed.
Ordinarily David would have gone to the door and shouted, but the presence of Elizabeth causing some absurd little diffidence in his mind, he sipped his coffee unsweetened. To a sweet-toothed man non-sugared coffee is peculiarly unpalatable. He set down his cup with a half-grimace, and glanced round the room. By good luck there might be a sugar bowl on an unoccupied table. There was not.
Elizabeth had noticed the former hesitation; she had likewise noticed the slight grimace, and the present unavailing glance around the room. Two and two were put rapidly together in her mind. She gave her own sugar bowl a slight push.
“Here is some sugar,” said she in her pleasant voice.
It was a most trifling incident. At the moment David merely said “Thank you,” and availed himself of the proffered bowl. Twenty minutes later, meeting in the garden by the stream, it gave a slight excuse for speech. It gave Elizabeth the excuse for speech. You may be sure David would never have ventured on it.
“What a dreamy spot!” said she, turning with a smile.
If you knew Elizabeth well, you would know that this was one of her favourite adjectives. It summed up at once beauty, picturesqueness, colour, and entire enjoyment of anything.
“It is good,” said David briefly.