Page:Restless Earth.djvu/65

“And when we part———?” she asked softly, with something of mild derision in her voice,

“It will be at death———”

“Or when we recover sufficiently to be able to see each other clearly.”

“Pat! Please!”

She wriggled from his arms and laughed.

“One of us must remain with feet upon the ground,” she said. “There is the washing-up to be done, and Romance scorns such a humble task.”

Harley sighed comically and reached for a clean tea-towel.

“We must educate Romance,” he said.

****

When the dishes had been washed and put away, James Harley seated himself at the window of the breakfast-room and gazed at the slate-grey mass of Mount Egmont, rearing itself into the darkening sky, visible through a gap in the row of stately pohutukawas which sheltered the old-fashioned house on the sloping ground to the south. Patricia Weybourn silently swept up the few crumbs which had fallen upon the floor, and arranged the bowl of flowers upon the table.

It was the hour of dusk; the quiet hour when birds and little children fall asleep; and the ghostly presence of Grace and Joan in this, their proper environment, imposed an awkward silence upon the lovers. Both had expected such a moment, knowing that it must pass with the coming of darkness.

It passed more quickly than either had dared to hope.

A motor-cycle roared past the house.

“The paper-boy’s late to-night,” said Harley, rising by force of habit at the sound. Then he laughed. “But, of course, you wouldn’t know that.”

He went out by the back door to search for the paper. Patricia made no move to stop him. She shrugged her shoulders and sighed as she watched him glance over the unkempt front lawn and move