"
_Mrs. Rossiter_: "We belong to the Botanic as well as to the Zoo.
_I_ could take you there after lunch."
_Rossiter_: "You forget, dearie, you've got to open that Bazaar in
Marylebone Town Hall--"
_Linda_: "Oh, have I? To be sure. But it's Lady Goring that does the
opening, I'm _much_ too nervous. Still I promised to come. Would
Miss Warren care to come with me?"
_Vivie_: "I should have liked to awfully: I love bazaars; but just
at this moment I'm thinking more of those succulent plants ... and
my battered face."
_Rossiter_: "I'll make up your minds for you. We'll _all_ drive to
the Zoo in Linda's motor. Gardner shall look at the animals and then
find his way to Hans Place. I'll escort Miss Warren to the Botanic,
and then come on and pick you up, Linda, at the Town Hall."
That statement seemed to satisfy every one, so after coffee and a
glance round the laboratory and the last experiments, they proceeded
to the Zoo, with at least an hour's daylight at their disposal.
Rossiter and Vivie were at last alone within the charmed circle of
the Botanic Gardens. They made their way slowly to the great Palm
House and thence up twisty iron steps to a nook like a tree refuge
in New Guinea, among palm boles and extravagant aroid growths.
"Now Michael," said Vivie--despite her bruised face she looked very
elegant in her grey costume, grey hat, and grey suede gloves, and he
had to exercise great self-restraint, remember that he was known by
sight to most of the gardeners and to the ubiquitous secretary, in
order to refrain from crushing her to his side: "Now Michael: I want
a serious talk to you, a talk which will last for another eighteen
months--which is about the time that has elapsed since we had our
last--You're _not_ keeping the pact we made.
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