He looked at her. For the moment he was bewildered, oblivious that the old personality of Asphodel had passed into his book and that the new personality of Poppy had invaded Asphodel.
"Well," said she, "is that all you have to say to me?"
"All?—oh, no. I could say a great deal—I have ordered my supper for nine o'clock."
"Oh, how obtuse you men are! Come—is this leap year?"
"I really believe that it is."
"Then I shall take the privilege of the year, and offer you my hand and heart and fortune—there! Now it only remains with you to name the day."
"Oh! Miss Vincent, you overcome me."
"Stuff and nonsense. Call me Asphodel, do Joe."
Mr. Leveridge walked back to his lodgings as if he trod on air. As he passed by the churchyard, he noticed the vicar, now shaven and shorn, labouring at a laden wheelbarrow. He halted at the rails and said: "Why, vicar, what are you about?"