But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. ” “I am glad that you have a reasonable excuse for not having been to see me,” she said good-humouredly. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room. It might be dangerous to thwart him. “Hello, Gwen!” said Ann Veronica, trying to put every one at their ease.
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