‘God bless my darling!’ he said softly. ‘God bless her!’
The desire again to see her face, to hear her voice, was too strong to be resisted. He threw a few pebbles of gravel against the glass, and a moment later the blind was drawn aside. Lady Dulcie saw him standing pale and still in the broad moonlight, and softly raised the window.
‘Desmond, is it you?’
‘Yes, Lady Dulcie. Speak low. Maybe they’re listening. I couldn’t stay away longer; I longed so to see you.’
‘I’ll come down to you,’ she whispered; ‘go to the west door.’
He slipped away, and a minute or two later Dulcie issued from the house, enveloped in a white dressing-gown, her naked feet glistening in rose-coloured slippers. Desmond made an irrepressible motion to take her in his arms, but, remembering his soaked condition, drew back.
‘Why,’ said Dulcie, ‘you’re all dripping wet, you silly boy! What have you been doing with yourself?’
‘I’ve been fishing,’ said Desmond.
‘Fishing?’ repeated Dulcie.
‘Yes, sure,’ said the boy, with a happy laugh. ‘I’ve landed the biggest fish of the season. I’ll tell ye all about it by-and-by, Dulcie. Not yet. ’Tis a secret. Haven’t ye a kiss for me?’