"Yes, I do. And I don't think I should ever have let you know it, Dick, but that it doesn't seem comfortable for a girl to carry about with her even a little thing like that which she can't speak of to her husband. So now you know. And there is a way of giving even what one could not withhold. She's perfect, Dick."
"Like the giver," said his brother.
And it was to Randal also that he owed the few minutes which he was able to get alone with Amaryllis before lunch.
He went up to Caldegard.
"Have you heard Bruffin describe Dick's solo on the dinner-bells—last night, you know? Well come and see if he's in the hall now," he said, and dragged the old man away.
Left alone together,
"It's like a dream," said Amaryllis; and, "Which!" asked Dick.
"Yesterday," said the girl, peering at his calm face.
"It's this that's like dreaming, to me," he answered. "When you're awake you make things happen. When you're asleep, things have the best of it—make you follow their lead. Yesterday, Amaryllis, I was some bloke, because I was useful to you. If I'd had time to think, I'd have thought very strong beer of myself. But now I'm—oh, a giddy little stranger that's taken the wrong turning and got in among the Birds of Paradise."
And he touched gingerly the sleeve of her frock,