Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/137

“That was a beautiful present, mon ami,” she said. “What can I do to thank you for it?”

“You can come for another picnic,” said Tony, that being at the moment what he wanted more than anything in the world.

Liane nodded in satisfaction. “Bien. I shall come on Wednesday,” she said simply. She did not say, “if you are not engaged”; of course. Tony would not be engaged on a picnic day!

Wednesday was a wonderful day. Tony enjoyed it thoroughly, and he had never been more utterly a child. As for Liane, she was as she had always been, just a baby—Tony did not even bother to think it, everything felt so absolutely safe and right.

They sailed to a little sheltered bay where creamy and golden and mauve orchids grew all over the rocks, and the ferns were marvellous. Liane made herself a crown of the smallest cream-coloured orchids. Coming back the wind dropped, and they were late in getting home. It was almost dark when they reached the house, and Liane was rather tired with the long, happy day in the open. Tony put her hand through his arm at the foot of the rise that led to her own veranda, and they went up together. At the top, just before stepping on to the veranda, he broke a long silence.

“Tired, Liane?”

She did not speak, but looked up as if she had meant to.

“What is it?”

She raised her face to him as if she were going to whisper something, but when he stooped she said nothing at all, only their lips met.

A strange thrill went through him, and he thought—nothing. It was a long kiss, and when he raised his head Liane reeled against him. He smelt the scent of her hair and of the white flowers in it; they shone like stars in the