"You see, when you left me in the Museum I really didn't know what to do. After what you'd told me I didn't want to risk upsetting him by simply walking in to his place unannounced. So I wrote that note, and he'd get it last night. And he was round early this morning. But he hasn't even mentioned the note. I suppose he got it, but things aren't in the least like what you told me. You told me he was passionately grateful at finding you. Well, that doesn't at all describe his manner to me. He's jolly, keen, full of enjoyment and zest at everything that comes along--and that's all. He _must_ have understood my note; that's why I put in that bit about the dog; if he didn't understand he'd have to ask what _that_ meant. But not one single word. What do you suppose has happened?" A little disingenuously I asked her what she meant by "happened." "To him of course. I've told you all _I_ did. It must have been rather heartrending between you two; so why this perfect composure now that there are three of us?" I didn't know. I was a little afraid to guess. But again I pondered that distance of the torch from the table's edge.... Julia was still gazing into the fire, her long hands between her knees, so that her walking-skirt shaped them. Then suddenly she looked from the fire to me. "How many things has he talked about to-day, since he's been here?" she asked abruptly. I moved uneasily. "Oh--how many things does one talk about in a day? Hundreds," I replied. "But--at such a _pitch_!" She threw the word at me with almost accusatory energy. "Top-note all the time--birds' nests, punts, athletics, incinerators, those boys bathing----" Less and less at my ease, I could only urge that a holiday was a holiday, and that Derry might as well have stayed at home as bring his cares with him. "You think it's just that?" she demanded, looking me full in the face. "I should say so." "Hm!" But in spite of that rather critical "Hm!" she seemed reassured. Suddenly she gave a soft chuckle. "He was rather wonderful with those boys," she said. "They're nice boys." "What a games-master he'd make!" Then, with a sly and guilty look in her eyes, "What shall we do to-morrow, George? Oh, it's ripping luck, being here unexpectedly like this!" "What would you like to do? There's the car if you want to go anywhere!" "N--o," she said reflectively, as if running over in her mind a dozen delectable plans. "I think just potter about here. Rushing about in cars ... no, it's perfectly adorable here. I don't want to set foot out of your grounds. George, you are a duck!" She hugged herself.