beautiful she looked like that!—simply beautiful—and she was so small in that immense chair. Reginald’s heart swelled with tenderness, but it was her voice, her soft voice, that made him tremble. “I feel you’ve been here for years,” she said.
Reginald took a deep breath of his cigarette. “It’s ghastly, this idea of going back,” he said.
“Coo-roo-coo-coo-coo,” sounded from the quiet.
“But you’re fond of being out there, aren’t you?” said Anne. She hooked her finger through her pearl necklace. “Father was saying only the other night how lucky he thought you were to have a life of your own.” And she looked up at him. Reginald’s smile was rather wan. “I don’t feel fearfully lucky,” he said lightly.
“Roo-coo-coo-coo,” came again. And Anne murmured, “You mean it’s lonely.”
“Oh, it isn’t the loneliness I care about,” said Reginald, and he stumped his cigarette savagely on the green ash-tray. “I could stand any amount of it, used to like it even. It’s the idea of” Suddenly, to his horror, he felt himself blushing.
“Roo-coo-coo-coo! Roo-coo-coo-coo!”
Anne jumped up. “Come and say goodbye to my doves,” she said. “They’ve been moved to the side veranda. You do like doves, don’t you, Reggie?”
