He paused and turned to her.
"I say, if she did know how I'm taking it, she'd think that awfully queer, wouldn't she?" He paused.
"The worst of it is," he said, "I've got to tell her."
"Will you leave it to me?" Agatha said. "I think I can make it all right."
"How?" he queried.
"Never mind how. I can."
"Well," he assented, "there's hardly anything you can't do."
That was how she came to tell Milly.
She made up her mind to tell her that evening as they sat alone in Agatha's house. Harding, Milly said, was happy over there with his books; just as he used to be, only more so. So much more so that she was a little disturbed about it. She was afraid it wouldn't last. And again she said it was the place, the wonderful, wonderful place.
"If you want it to last," Agatha said, "don't go on thinking it's the place."