“Exquisite! By George, you have eyes!”
She laughed softly in a happy, exultant throat.
“I surprised myself. I think it must be Lynette’s magic, and the fairies in the Wilderness.”
“If you are going to paint like that, you ought to do big things.”
“Oh, I don’t know! There are not many people who really care.”
“That’s true.”
He gazed again at the picture, and then his eyes suddenly sought hers.
“Yes, you can see things—you can feel the colour.”
“Sometimes it is so vivid that it almost hurts.”
They continued to look into each other’s eyes, questioningly, wonderingly, with something akin to self-realisation. It was as though they had discovered each other, and were re-discovering each other every time they met and talked.