THE KISS 191 



coign of the down side had attracted her attention 

 and she stooped to pick it. 



"Now I wish I hadn't. What beasts we are! 

 We never see a flower but we must pick it, or a bird 

 but we want to shoot it. This might have hved 

 days if I had left it alone, and now it will wither 

 in a few hours. Here." 



She stopped and fixed the primrose in Mr 

 Dashwood's buttonhole. She was so close, touch- 

 ing him, and her felt hat almost brushed his face. 

 There was no one on the path ; it was the psycho- 

 logical moment, yet he had to let it go. 



" Thanks," he said. 



Miss Grimshaw looked at the flower critic aUy for 

 a second, with her pretty head sHghtly on one side. 



" It wiU stick in without a pin," she said. 

 " Come on, or I'U miss the post. No, thanks ; I 

 can carry the letter aU right. I Hke to have some- 

 thing in my hand. Why is it that a person always 

 feels lost without something in their hands? 

 Look, that's Miss SHmon's house. The Ranch. 

 She's immensely rich and awfuUy mean, and fives 

 there alone with three servants. She's always 

 dismissing them. I don't know why, unless they 

 steal the poetry. There's nothing else much to 

 steal, for she's a vegetarian and fives on a shilfing 

 a day, and keeps the servants on board wages. 

 And I have to give her a guinea out of my hard- 

 earned savings for that poetical club. I'm going 

 to make Effie write the poetry. It will give the 

 child something to do. That's Colonel Creep's 



