"It is rather difficult," she answered, in a low tone. "I don't think my people would like me to bring them to the drawing-room, they don't really care about any of those things."
There was a pause for a moment, then he said, turning to her:
"Would you like to bring them to my sitting-room after dinner, some time when the others are gone to bed?"
"Yes, I could do that," she answered simply. He saw she was thinking at the moment only of her work, and the unconventionality of such a visit did not oppress her, was not even near her mind.
"We must go now," she said regretfully, "or we shall be late. I think," she added slowly, "we had better not go back together. Will you go home and I will follow by the short cut to the house. My sisters know that I spend a great deal of my time here, but they would not like it if they thought that you came. They would want to come here too, and then all the peace and beauty I enjoy would be spoiled. Do you see?"
"Perfectly," said Everest, smiling, as they turned from the sea to the scented shades of the garden.
"This place has always been for you alone and now it is to be for us alone. We will share it with no one and tell nobody of our comings and goings."
He spoke lightly, jestingly, but both felt that the pact they had made was a serious one, a pact for companionship in hidden solitude in this magic, intoxicating place.
The paths were very narrow between the encroaching foliage of flowering shrubs on every side, and they had to walk closely together, sometimes touching each other in the soft violet shade beneath the overhanging trees, and each time her fair head and rose cheek moved near him he longed to draw her into his arms and kiss her again, but he would not yield to the impulse, and almost in silence they passed on through the groves till they were near the high gate by which he had entered.
"Will you jump it again?" she said, smiling up at him.