"I will do that."
Johnny hesitated; Julia's wish was his law, still there seemed no harm in the exchange; anyhow, without quite knowing how it happened, he soon afterwards found himself in the garden among the water cans.
Rawson-Clew went back to the outer kitchen. Julia looked round as she heard his step, and seeing that he was alone, recognised the manœuvre and the arrival of the inevitable hour.
"Well," she said, coming to the point in a business-like way now that it was unavoidable; "what is it you want?"
"I want to know several things," he said, shutting the door. "Principally why you called your daffodil 'The Good Comrade?'"
"The daffodil!" she repeated in frank amazement; she was completely surprised, and for once she did not attempt to hide it.
"Yes," Rawson-Clew said; "why did you call it 'The Good Comrade?'"
Julia began to recover herself and also her natural caution. This was not the question she expected, but the rogue in her made her wary even of the seemingly simple and safe. "I called it after three friends," she said, "who were good comrades to me—you, Johnny and Joost Van Heigen. Why do you ask?"
"Because I wondered if it was a case of telepathy; I also named something 'The Good Comrade.'"
"You?" she said. "What did you name? Was it a dog?"