"There is something the matter with you, Tommy. Perhaps you have caught my headache. You remember how inquisitive you were? And how you complained of the roses? If you come up now you will find fresh ones waiting for you."
Her glance was unclouded. No human being ever looked less conscience-stricken. It was as though she had convinced herself of the righteousness of her deed, and thereafter dismissed it from her mind as something not worth bothering about. Blithe as a bird! If he had not seen with his own eyes—
"Has it gone, your headache?" he enquired, not knowing what to say.
"Gone away altogether. I have heard so much about this procession that I thought I would drive down and have a look at it. I missed the last one, you know. Besides, I wanted to see some friends here whom I've been neglecting lately. I feel quite guilty about it," she added.
He couldn't help saying:
"You don't look guilty."
"Ah, but you mustn't judge by appearances!"
"You blamed the sirocco, I remember."
"I don't blame it any longer. Surely a woman can change her mind? But what is the matter with you?"
"Perhaps the south wind," he ventured.