And he would take her that lock and key.
IV
AN ORDINARY YOUNG MAN
He began to spend his days up Delyn and his nights at Llanyglo. To avoid the shaly spur, he pulled across in the boat each morning from the beaching-place near the hut to the foot of Glyn Iago, and she had his breakfast ready for him when he arrived, which was between half-past ten and eleven o'clock. As if his suggestion had been a command, she had made her little encampment up the Glyn, fetching dry sticks from up the steep wood; her hat and her box only remained in the locked shed.
He did not cast a fly. Minetta began to ask him, when he returned at night, first what sport he had had, and then why he always chose to fish in the middle of the day. Then one night he returned to find his sister showing June her sketches. For some minutes he affected not to be interested; then, with a highly elaborate yawn, he said, "Oh, I say, Min—what became of that sketch you once made of that gipsy kid—you remember—the one mother once took in with a cut foot?—Best thing she ever did," he added carelessly to June.
"Oh, it got shoved away somewhere. Why?" said Minetta; but there was a little quick dropping look in her eyes.
"Nothing. I just happened to remember it. It was better than some of these."
The next morning the sketch, unearthed from some dusty heap or other, was on his plate when he came down to breakfast. Presently June and Minetta also came down. By that time he was able to say, quite composedly, "Oh, I see you found that thing. That's the sketch I was speaking of, June——"
But he wondered whether Minetta also could by any chance have seen Ynys on that, her single night in Llanyglo.