They went out together on to the wide lawn and sauntered down to a
summer-house on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the whole mighty
expanse of sea. It lay dreaming in the sunlight, with hardly a ripple
upon the long white beach below. And here they came upon Muriel and
Olga, sitting side by side on the grass.
Olga had just finished pulling a daisy to pieces. She tossed it away
at Nick's approach, and sprang to meet him.
"It's very disappointing," she declared. "It's the fourth time I've
done it, and it always comes the same. I've been making the daisies
tell Muriel's fortune, and it always comes to 'He would if he could,
but he can't.' You try this time, Nick."
"All right. You hold the daisy," said Nick.
Muriel looked up with a slightly heightened colour. "I think we ought
to be going," she remarked.
"We have just ordered the horses for four o'clock," Grange said
apologetically.
She glanced at the watch on her wrist--half-past three. Nick, seated
cross-legged on the grass in front of her, had already, with Olga's
able assistance, begun his game.
Swiftly the tiny petals fell from his fingers. He was very intent,
and in spite of herself Muriel became intent too, held by a most
unaccountable fascination. So handicapped was he that he could not
even pull a flower to pieces without assistance.
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