"Do you notice that the grapes on the trellis are turning dark? And the peaches are becoming so big and heavy and rosy. They will be ripe before very long."
"You must have a greenhouse," he said.
"We must," she admitted demurely.
He turned toward her with much of his old gaiety, laughing: "Do you know," he said, "I believe you are pretending to be in love with me!"
"That's all it is, Clive, just pretence, and the natural depravity of a flirt. When I go back to town I'll forget you ever existed—unless you go with me."
"I'm wondering," he said, "what we had better do in town."
"I'm not wondering; I know."
He looked at her questioningly. Then she told him about her visit to Michael and the apartment.
"There is no other place in the world that I care to live in—excepting this," she said. "Couldn't we live there, Clive, when we go to town?"
After a moment he said: "Yes."