Swift, cool breezes were scurrying down the valley, bearing in their wake the soft rain clouds that were soon to drench the earth and then radiantly pass on.

They were quite alone, seated in the shelter of a wide, overhanging portico.

A soft, green darkness was creeping over the mountainside, pregnant with smell of the shower.
Constance ordered tea and a bite of something to eat for both.

Brock's gaze never left her exquisite face while she was engaged in the pretty but rather self-conscious occupation of instructing the waitress.

After the girl had departed, he leaned forward across the little table and said, a trifle hoarsely and disjointedly,-- "It was most appetising to watch you do that.