See paragraph 1. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. ” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. He stepped quickly towards her.
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