” “With you!” “And as for your people?” “They don’t count. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means.
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