They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. There was a young lad ahead of her. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. . The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention.
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