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"And hear the sea, watch the waves," she murmured in response.

"You like me better than you did that day."

"I know you better." She found it difficult to talk.

"Everything is better now," he said with a sigh of satisfaction. It was twenty minutes' drive from the station to the hotel. He was telling her of an old oak bureau he had seen, of the way the workmen were progressing, of a Spode dinner service George was going to give them. Once when they were between green hedges in a green solitude, he raised the hand he held to his lips and said:

"Only three days more."

She was in a dream from which she had no wish to wake.

"You don't usually wear a veil, do you?" he asked. "There is something different about you today …"

"It is my new trousseau," she answered, not without inward agitation, but lightly withal. "The latest fashion. Don't you like it? "Now they had left the sheltering hedges and were within sight of the white painted hostelry.

"The hat and dress and everything are lovely. But your own loveliness is obscured by the veil. It makes you look ethereal; I cannot see you so clearly through it. Beloved, you are quite well, are you not?" There was a note of sudden anxiety