" "Lead the way to it then, Saint Giles," said Jack, in a tone of mock authority. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha. Do have some tea, won’t you? If you must, go then. Now, will you stand aside?" "I won't," answered Jack, obstinately. Adventure rules, and morality—looks up the trains in the Bradshaw. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. Epithalamy might do. What she said is true. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. ’ He sighed. But be patient, I am your fast friend.
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