“Oh, it was all right. I think I dozed off myself. Except that the birds didn’t come and cover us with leaves; it was rather like the ‘Babes in the Wood.’”
“But you haven’t had any breakfast! Aren’t you starving?”
“Well, I’m not saying I wouldn’t spear a fried egg with some vim if it happened to float past. But there’s plenty of time for that. Lots of doctors say you oughtn’t to eat breakfast, and Indian fakirs go without food for days at a time in order to develop their souls. Shall I take you back to wherever you’re staying? You ought to get a proper sleep in bed.”
“Don’t dream of taking me. Go off and have something to eat.”
“Oh, that can wait. I’d like to see you safely home.”
Jill was conscious of a renewed sense of his comfortingness. There was no doubt about it, Wally was different from any other man she had known. She suddenly felt guilty, as if she were obtaining something valuable under false pretences.
“Wally!”
“Hullo?”
“You—you oughtn’t to be so good to me!”
“Nonsense! Where’s the harm in lending a hand—or, rather, an arm—to a pal in trouble?”