Why, you haven't
even told her you love her. The other man--is here, and--I've seen him
look at her? I know by the way she speaks of him how she feels.
Besides, he's a great masterful creature. Don't be a fool! Have a try
. . . Junia--Junia," he called.
The figure in the garden with the flowers turned. There was a flicker of
understanding in the rare eyes. The girl held up a bunch of flowers high
like a torch.
"I'm coming, my children," she called, and, with a laugh, she ran forward
through the doorway.
"What is it you want, Fabian?" she asked, conscious that in Carnac's face
was consternation. "What can I do for you?" she added, with a slight
flush.
"Nothing for me, but for Carnac--" Fabian stretched out a hand.
She laughed brusquely. "Oh, Carnac! Carnac! Well, I've been making him
this bouquet." She held it out towards him. "It's a farewell bouquet for
his little journey in the world. Take it, Carnac, with everybody's
love--with Fabian's love, with Sibyl's love, with my love. Take it, and
good-bye."
With a laugh she caught up her hat from the table, and a moment later she
was in the street making for the mountain-side up which the children had
gone.
Carnac placed the bouquet upon the table.
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