"It sounded rather--beautiful," said Janet, her face still turned to
the stars. "Far off, but so clear and sure. I wonder--I wonder
whether it will be coming back?"

Well, it came back. She went down to White Orchards with Rosemary
for the following week-end, and after she had smoothed her hair and
given a scornful glance at the pale face in the mirror, with its
shadowy eyes and defiant mouth, she slipped out to the lower terrace
for a breath of the soft country air. Halfway down the flight of
steps she stumbled and caught at the balustrade, and stood shaking
for a moment, her face pressed against its rough surface. Once
before--once before she had stumbled on those steps, but it was not
the balustrade that had saved her. She could feel his arms about her
now, holding her up, holding her close and safe. The magical voice
was in her ears. "Let you go? I'll never let you go! Poor little feet,
stumblin' in the dark, what would you do without Jerry? Time's comin',
you cheeky little devils, when you'll come runnin' to him when he
whistles! No use tryin' to get away--you belong to him."

Oh, whistle to them now, Jerry--they would run to you across the
stars!

"How'd you like to marry me before I go back to-morrow? No? No
accountin' for tastes, Miss Abbott--lots of people would simply jump
at it! All right--April, then. Birds and flowers and all that kind
o' thing--pretty intoxicatin', what? No, keep still, darlin' goose.
What feller taught you to wear a dress that looks like roses and
smells like roses and feels like roses? This feller? Lord help us,
what a lovely liar!"