" Thames turned away at the question, which he felt might be construed into a reproach. "Not a syllable!" answered the carpenter, angrily. As it happens sometimes, the idea stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. She made herself a private declaration of liberty. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. She kept her eyes closed. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated.
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