She vanished from the laboratory for a week, a week of oddly interesting days. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. Used to play together, we did, all over Remenham House. They shouted to her from the wings to come off. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself.
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