She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Lucy followed her. She bounced onto her bottom. Expiation. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. ’ Hilary’s brows shot up.
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