"I should think so."
"It's a fine place, isn't it?"
"Very fine, and very big," said Harding slowly. "Very empty, and ghostly, and dead."
"Oh, you don't like it! I thought it would be different to you. I thought it would seem like home, since it belonged to your own people."
"Home, sweet home!" he answered with a queer smile. "Well, it is a fine place, as you say. And what have you been doing all the morning?"
"Housekeeping," said Barbara. "And now"—she set down a small basket of keys on the hall table, as if she were preparing for action—"now I am going to set the clock right."
"I'll stay for that if you'll allow me," said Reynold. "I remember what you told me last night. It is the time, and the world stands still when it stops."
"For me, not for you," the girl replied. "You have your watch—you don't believe in the big clock."
"Yes, I do. Here, in Mitchelhurst, what does one want with any but Mitchelhurst time? What have I to do with Greenwich? But as for Mitchelhurst, your uncle has talked to me till I feel as if I were all the Rothwells who ever lived here. Why, what's this? Sunshine!"