have flown to help him, but Winky wasn't like herself. She stood in
an improbable silence and gravity and stared at him, while her lips
moved as if she drew back her breath, and her feet as if she would have
drawn herself back, but for the door she had closed behind her; so
inspired was she with the instinct of retreat.

Her scare (for plainly she was scared) lasted only for a second; only
till he spoke again and came forward.

"So it's little Winky, is it? Well, I never!" He laughed for pure
pleasure.

She smiled faintly and came off her doorstep to take the hand he held
out to her.

"I came," she said, "to see Violet and the Baby."

At that he smiled also, half furtively. "And have you seen them?"

"Oh yes. I've been sitting with Violet for the last hour. I must be
going now."

"Going? Why, what's the hurry?"

"Well--"

"Well--" He tried to sound the little word as she did. He remembered it,
the funny little word that summed up her evasiveness, her reluctance,
her absurdity.

She was still standing by the doorstep, stroking the sham porphyry
pillar with her childish hand, as if she wanted to see what it was made
of.

"It isn't _reelly_ marble," Ransome said.

She gazed at him, wondering. "_What_ isn't?"

"That pillar."

"Oh--I wasn't thinking--" She took her hand away suddenly as if the
pillar had been a snake and stung her. Then she looked at it.

"How beautiful they make them!" She paused, absolutely grave. Then, "Oh,
Ranny, you _have_ got a nice house," she said.

"Have you seen it?"

"No. Not _all_ of it." She spoke as if it had been a palace.

"Come in and have a look round," said Ranny.

"Well--"

There was distinct yielding in her voice this time. Winny was half
caught.

"I _do_ love looking at houses."

He lured her in. She came over the threshold as if on some delicious yet
perilous adventure, with eyes that shone and with two little teeth that
bit down her lower lip; a way she had when she attempted anything
difficult and at the same time exciting. He showed her everything except
the room she had seen already, the room with the love knots and the
rosebuds where Violet and the Baby were. Winny admired everything with
joy and yet with reverence, from the splendid overmantel in the front
sitting-room to the hot-water tap in the bathroom.

"My word," Winny said, "what I'd give to have a bath like that!"

"I say," said Ransome, suddenly moved, "you take a lot more interest in
it