Vyse thought it kind to go herself. She found the girl sitting
upright with her hand on her cheek.
"I am so sorry, Mrs. Vyse--it is these dreams."
"Bad dreams?"
"Just dreams."
The elder lady smiled and kissed her, saying very distinctly:
"You should have heard us talking about you, dear. He admires you
more than ever. Dream of that."
Lucy returned the kiss, still covering one cheek with her hand.
Mrs. Vyse recessed to bed. Cecil, whom the cry had not awoke,
snored. Darkness enveloped the flat.
Chapter XII: Twelfth Chapter
It was a Saturday afternoon, gay and brilliant after abundant
rains, and the spirit of youth dwelt in it, though the season was
now autumn. All that was gracious triumphed. As the motorcars
passed through Summer Street they raised only a little dust, and
their stench was soon dispersed by the wind and replaced by the
scent of the wet birches or of the pines. Mr. Beebe, at leisure
for life's amenities, leant over his Rectory gate. Freddy leant
by him, smoking a pendant pipe.
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