Robin listened to every word with enraptured eyes and bated breath. This was the story of Love and Life and it was the first time she had ever heard it. It was as much a revelation as the Kiss. She had spent her days in the grimy Nursery and her one close intimate had been a bony woman who had taught her not to cry, employing the practical method of terrifying her into silence by pinching her—knowing it was quite safe to do it. It had not been necessary to do it often. She had seen people on the streets, but she had only seen them in passing by. She had not watched them as she had watched the sparrows. When she was taken down for a few minutes into the basement, she vaguely knew that she was in the way and that Mrs. Blayne’s and Andrews’ and Jennings’ low voices and occasional sidelong look meant that they were talking about her and did not want her to hear. “I have no mother and no father,” she explained quite simply to Donal. “No one kisses me.” “No one!” Donal said, feeling curious. “Has no one ever kissed you but me?” “No,” she answered. Donal laughed—because children always laugh when they do not know what else to do. “Was that why you looked as if you were frightened when I said good-bye to you yesterday?” “I—I didn’t know,” said Robin, laughing a little too—but not very much, “I wasn’t frightened. I liked you.” “I’ll kiss you as often as you want me to,” he volunteered nobly. “I’m used to it—because of my mother. I’ll kiss you again now.” And he did it quite without embarrassment. It was a sort of manly gratuity. Once Anne, with her book in her hand, came round the shrubs to see how her charge was employing herself, and seeing her looking at pictures with a handsomely dressed companion, she returned to “Lady Audley’s Secret” feeling entirely safe. The lilac and the hawthorn tree continued to breathe forth warmed scents of paradise in the sunshine, the piano organ went on playing, sometimes nearer, sometimes farther away, but evidently finding the neighbourhood a desirable one. Sometimes the children laughed at each other, sometimes at pictures Donal showed, or stories he told, or at his own extreme wit. The boundaries were removed from Robin’s world. She began to understand that there was another larger one containing wonderful and delightful things she had known nothing about. Donal was revealing it to her in everything he said even when he was not aware that he was telling her anything. When Eve was formed from the rib of Adam the information it was necessary for him to give her regarding her surroundings must have filled her with enthralling interest and a reverence which adored. The planted enclosure which was the central feature of the soot sprinkled, stately London Square was as the Garden of Eden.