They walked to the pavilion together, he silent, sombre-eyed, taking a mechanical leave of his hostess, fulfilling conventions while scarcely aware of the routine or of the people around him; she composed, sweet, conventionally faultless--and a trifle pale as they turned away together across the lawn.
When they took their places side by side in the chair she was saying something perfunctory concerning the fete and Mrs.Ascott.And as he offered no comment: "Don't you think her very charming and sincere....
Are you listening to me, Mr.Hamil ?" "Yes," he said.

"Everybody was very jolly.

Yes, indeed." "And--the girl who adores the purple perfume of petunias ?" she asked mischievously.

"I think that same purple perfume has made you drowsy, my uncivil friend." He turned.

"Oh, you heard _that_ ?" "Yes; I thought it best to keep a sisterly eye on you." He forced a smile.
"You were very much amused, I suppose--to see me sitting bras-dessus-bras-dessous with the high-browed and precious." "Not amused; no.