She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. She became aware of the Scotch student regarding her with stupendous amazement, a tea-cup poised in one hairy hand and his faceted glasses showing a various enlargement of segments of his eye. She was obliged to concede that his features were pleasing, his strength and vitality attractive; and there was no denying how well this uniform of a militia suited his figure, which was lean and powerful both. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground.
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