She seated herself in the old place opposite him, and read from where the book fell open of its own accord.
“‘O, lyric Love, half angel and half bird’”—
Her voice came stammering like a child’s, choked with tenderness and many memories—
“‘And all a wonder and a wild desire—’”
“Oh no, I say, for Heaven’s sake, Aggie, not that rot.”
“You—you used to like it.”
“Oh, I dare say, years ago. I can’t stand it now.”
“Can’t stand it?”
Again he was softened.
“Can’t understand it, perhaps, my dear. But it comes to the same thing.”