"It's a darned sight worse than strange!" he blurted out—then asked pardon for his inelegant vehemence; but she only smiled dreamily and sipped her currant wine in the sunshine.
"Shall we talk of something pleasanter?" he said, still uneasy, "—er—about those jolly old colonial days. . . . That's rather an odd gown you wear—er—pretty you know—but—is it not in the style of—er—those days of—of yore—and all that?"
"It was made then."
"A genuine antique!" he exclaimed. "I suppose you found it in the garret. There must be a lot of interesting things up there behind those flat loop-holes."
"Chests full," she nodded. "We save everything."
He said: "You look wonderfully charming in the costume of those days. It suits you so perfectly that—as a matter of fact, I didn't even notice your dress when I first saw you—but it's a wonder!"
"Men seldom notice women's clothes, do they?"
"That is true. Still, it's curious I didn't notice such a gown as that."
"Is it very gay and fine?" she asked, colouring deliciously. "I love these clothes."
"They are the garments of perfection—robing it!"