She came toward him in silence, while he moved to meet her; the great scale of this particular front, at Matcham, multiplied thus, in the golden morning, the stages of their meeting and the successions of their consciousness.

It wasn't till she had come quite close that he produced for her his "Gloucester, Gloucester, Gloucester," and his "Look at it over there!" She knew just where to look.

"Yes--isn't it one of the best?
There are cloisters or towers or some thing." And her eyes, which, though her lips smiled, were almost grave with their depths of acceptance; came back to him.

"Or the tomb of some old king." "We must see the old king; we must 'do' the cathedral," he said; "we must know all about it.

If we could but take," he exhaled, "the full opportunity!" And then while, for all they seemed to give him, he sounded again her eyes: "I feel the day like a great gold cup that we must somehow drain together." "I feel it, as you always make me feel everything, just as you do; so that I know ten miles off how you feel! But do you remember," she asked, "apropos of great gold cups, the beautiful one, the real one, that I offered you so long ago and that you wouldn't have?
Just before your marriage"-- she brought it back to him: "the gilded crystal bowl in the little Bloomsbury shop." "Oh yes!"-- but it took, with a slight surprise on the 'Prince's part, some small recollecting.