"I don't want it; you needn't suppose so. I've not the faintest desire to know what's on it." He simply looked at her with a glint of laughter in his big grey eyes. "I've half a mind to tear it in half and return it to you."
"You won't do that."
"Then I'll take it with me and look at it when I get home, if I look at it at all."
"Read it now."
She opened and read it; or tried to. "I don't understand what it's about; it seems to be so much gibberish. What is the thing?"
"It's a conveyance."
"A conveyance? What do you mean?"
"Being interpreted, it's a legal instrument which conveys to you and to your heirs for ever the fee-simple of--that."
"That?"
"That." He was pointing to the piece of land which lay within the confines of the newly-made fence. "That nook--that dell--that haven in which I saw you first, because you were under the impression it was yours. I was idiot enough to disabuse your mind, not being conscious, then, of what a fool I was. My idiocy has rankled ever since. However, it may have been of aforetime your lying there, cradled on that turf, has made of it consecrated ground. I guessed it then; I know it now. Then you fancied it was your own; now it assuredly is, you hold the conveyance in your hand."