He took the fragrant sheaf from her; she selected a magnificent white blossom, drew the stem through the lapel of his coat, patted the flower into a position which suited her, regarded the effect critically, then glanced up out of her winning blue eyes and found him watching her dreamily.
"I try to realise it, and I can't," he said vaguely. "Can you, dear?"
"Realise what?" she asked, in a low voice.
"That we are engaged."
"Are you so sure of me, Jim?"
"Do you suppose I could live life through without you now?"
"I don't know. Try it for two minutes anyway; these flowers must stand in water. Will you wait here for me?"
He stepped forward to aid her, but she passed him lightly, avoiding his touch, and sped across the corridor. In a few minutes she returned and they descended the stairs together, and entered the empty library. She leaned back against the table, both slender hands resting on the edge behind her, and gazed out at the sparrows in the snow. And she did not even appear to notice his arm, which ventured around her waist, or his lips resting against the lock of bright hair curling on her cheek, so absorbed she seemed to be in her silent reflections.
After a few moments she said, still looking out of the window: "I must tell you something now."