"Good-bye, trees and grass that are growing green again.

Good-bye, all pretty, peaceful things." Michael had no hesitation in telephoning to Sylvia when they got back to town, asking her if she could come and have tea with his mother, for the gentle, affectionate mood of the morning still lasted, and her eagerness to see Sylvia was only equalled by her eagerness to be agreeable to her.
He was greedy, whenever it could be done, to secure a pleasure for his mother, and this one seemed in her present mood a perfectly safe one.
Added to that impulse, in itself sufficient, there was his own longing to see her again, that thirst that never left him, and soon after they had got back to Curzon Street Sylvia was with them, and, as before, in preparation for a long visit, she had taken off her hat.

To-day she divested herself of it without any suggestion on Lady Ashbridge's part, and this immensely pleased her.
"Look, Michael," she said.

"Miss Falbe means to stop a long time.

That is sweet of her, is it not?
She is not in such a hurry to get away today.