He sat down a little distance from her, and put his face wearily between his hands. Yuki regarded him a moment, and then she silently went to him, pulled his hands down, and kissed his lips.

“I have missed you terribly,” he said, hoarsely.

She was all compunction.

“I very sawry. I din know you caring very much for poor liddle me, an p’raps I bedder nod come bag ad you.”

“Why did you come, then?” he asked, gently.

“I coon’ help myself,” she said, forlornly. “My feet aching run bag ad you, my eyes ill to see you, my hands gone mad to touch you.”

She had grown in a moment serious, but also melancholy.

After a pause she said, more brightly, “I bringin’ you something—something so nize, dear my lord.”

“What is it, Yuki, dear?” He was reluctant to let her go even for a moment.

“Flowers,” she said—“summer flowers.”