Julian turned round to him with abrupt irritation.
"That's not so," he said. "Cuckoo is herself always." He turned again to her.
"Are you better?" he asked, touching her hand gently.
"Yes, I'm all right. It was—them."
She glanced vaguely round at the tulips, as if searching for the cause of the scent which filled the room.
"There are hyacinths somewhere," the doctor said.
"Yes, they are hidden!" said Valentine. "A hidden power is the greatest power. But now you may see them."
And he drew from a nook, guarded by some large ferns, a pot of red hyacinths.
Cuckoo sat up and drank a little brandy, which the doctor gave to her.
Some colour came into her pale and thin cheeks.
"I'm as right as ninepence now," she said, with an effort after brightness.