So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. He came to her at once, and turning, walked by her side. “When are you going away?” He asked. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river.
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