We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. “Only you are the woman I love, and you are in trouble. " "That's easily said. “We will convince him now to the contrary,” Annabel answered. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. Probably a sick man's whim. He laughed suddenly, and released her. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river.
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