At an open window across the way a public-spirited and extremely pretty young woman appeared with a towel pinned round her shoulders and let down her hair, a shimmering cascade of gold for the sun's rays to wanton with and, incidentally, to dry. Somewhere at a distance a cracked old piano-organ was romping and giggling rapturously through the syncopated measures of Tin Pan Alley's latest "rag." A vision drifted before Matthias' eyes, of the green slopes of Tanglewood, the white château on its windy headland, the ineffable blue of the Sound beyond.... Incredulous, he turned to consult his calendar: the day was Wednesday, the seventeenth of April. It was true, then: almost without his knowledge the bleak and barren Winter had worn away and Spring had stolen upon Town, flaunting, extravagant, shy and seductive, irresistible Spring.... For a little Matthias held back in doubt, with reluctant thoughts of his work. Then--all in a breath--he caught up hat and stick, slammed the door behind him, and blundered forth to fulfill his destiny.... She was seated on a bench, in a retired spot sheltered from the breeze, open to the sun, when Matthias, having swung round the upper reservoir, came at full stride down the West Drive, his blood romping, his eyes aglow, warm colour in his face: for the first time in half a year feeling himself again, Matthias the lover of the open skies divorced from Matthias of the midnight lamp and the scored and intricate manuscripts--that Matthias whom the world rejected. At a word, her companion rose and moved to intercept him; and at the sound of his name, Matthias paused, wondering who she could be, this strange, sweet-faced woman, plainly dressed. "Yes?" he said, lifting his hat. "I am Mr. Matthias--yes--" "Mrs. Marbridge would like to speak to you." His gaze veered quickly in the direction indicated by her brief nod. He saw Venetia waiting, and immediately went to her, in his surprise forgetful of the woman who had accosted him. This last moved slowly in the other direction and sat down out of earshot. "This is awfully good of you, Venetia," he said, bending over her hand. "I didn't see you, of course--was thinking of something else--" "But I was thinking of you," she said. "I've been wanting to see you for a long time, Jack." "Surely Helena could have told you where to find me...." "I knew we'd run across one another, somehow, somewhere, sometime--today or tomorrow, without fail. So I was content to do without the offices of Helena. Do sit down. I want so much to talk to you." "Most completely yours to command," he said lightly, and took the place beside her. But his heart was on his lips and in his eyes, and Venetia was far from blind. "Then tell me about yourself," she asked. "It's been so long since I've had any news!" "Is it possible? I should have imagined my doting aunt--"