A strange man was kneeling by the beehive in the herb-garden. He
was looking at her over his shoulder, at once startled and amused, and
she saw that he was wearing a rather shabby tweed suit and that his face
was oddly brown against his close-cropped, tawny hair. He smiled, his
teeth a strong flash of white.
"Hello!" he greeted her, in a tone at once casual and friendly.
Daphne returned the smile uncertainly. "Hello," she replied gravely.
The strange man rose easily to his feet, and she saw that he was very
tall and carried his head rather splendidly, like the young bronze Greek
in Uncle Roland's study at home. But his eyes--his eyes were
strange--quite dark and burned out. The rest of him looked young and
vivid and adventurous--but his eyes looked as though the adventure were
over, though they were still questing.
"Were you looking for any one?" she asked, and the man shook his head,
laughing.
"No one in particular, unless it was you."
Daphne's soft brow darkened. "It couldn't possibly have been me," she
said in a rather stately small voice, "because, you see, I don't know
you. Perhaps you didn't know that there is no one living in Green
Gardens now?"
"Oh, yes, I knew. The Fanes have left for Ceylon, haven't they?"
"Sir Harry left two weeks ago, because he had to see the old governor
before he sailed, but Lady Audrey only left last week.
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