Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. It was his turn to express astonishment. After all, what could happen? He was looking at her very hard and earnestly. His fears supplied him with unwonted vigour. He thought of his severe attitude towards the girl who was rightly and with contempt refusing his measured help. A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy. “I’m really very sorry. “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. Jack was completely overcome. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it.
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