Her eyes had travelled on to the background of bare woodland on the ridge. She screwed her lips up in her shortsighted way, and the little lines about her eyes made her seem nearer to him, and more real. "It must be lovely over there," she said.

"Oh, there's a wood beyond, with a gold and purple swamp in the middle—I wish I could take you there!"

"Well, why not?" She smiled. "I have so much to say to you… . We might go there now, if it's not too far… ."

He said thoughtfully: "It's too far for this afternoon. We'd have to make a long day of it."

"Oh, that would be glorious!" She glanced about her again. "But I like it here too… ." She looked at him hesitatingly: "Are you living here all alone?"

"Yes."

She still seemed to hesitate. "May I come in and see what it's like?"

Vance felt his colour rise. He did not want her to see the shabbiness of the dismantled bungalow, with his few possessions stacked up for departure, and the untidy divan on which he had slept since Laura Lou's death. "Oh, it's a poor sort of place. It's a good deal pleasanter out here in the sun."

"I daresay. It's lovely here," she agreed. "But everything's lovely to me … I'm a little drunk with the spring—and finding you… . Shall I sit down here beside you? You mustn't smuggle away your pipe—please don't!"

He pulled out his pipe and relit it. "Wait till I get you a cushion or something." He fetched a blanket off the divan and laid it on the upper step, and they sat down side by side. "It's good here in the sun," he said, his voice trembling.

"Yes, it's good."

They sat silent for a minute or two, and he could feel that she was penetrated by the deep well-being that steeped his soul.

"You said you had a great deal to tell me," he began at last, half reluctant to break the silence.

"Yes, a great deal." She paused again, and met his eyes with another little smile, half shy, half challenging. "But it's a long story—and perhaps you won't understand after all."

He was silent, not knowing what to say, and wondering why they needed to tell each other anything, instead of just basking in the fulness of their mutual intelligence. But he saw that she expected an answer. "What makes you think I won't understand?"

She laughed nervously. "Because I want you to so much."

"Well—try."

She stood up, walked away under the apple trees, and came back and sat down beside him. "Vance—you remember that night when you brought me the first chapters of Loot to read?" He nodded.

"And you remember what you said afterward—and what I said?" He nodded again.

"That night when I saw you go I thought I couldn't bear it."

"No—"

She turned and looked at him. "You too—?"

"Yes."