Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. Paris, always beautiful even in the darkness, glittered away to the horizon. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. She has been a dear. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. ’ ‘She behaved like a madwoman,’ Hilary declared roundly. ’ ‘No, perhaps not,’ Gerald agreed with a smile. ’ ‘What, even less delightful than Gerald?’ enquired Lucilla, her eyes dancing.
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