'Jack, I am altogether with you. Let us have the real thing.'
'That is a kiss,' said he. 'No sham there.'
Jack was in excellent spirits. He could see no cloud in the sky. Winefred's love for him had broken like dawn upon his soul, and within him all was light, and twitter, and bloom.
'I must go back to Bath,' she said.
'What—to have the stripes painted on?'
'There are the choughs.'
'I will take them.'
'No—my father is there.'
Jack became grave.