Page:The history of Mr. Polly.djvu/142

 “Let’s sit down on one of those seats over there,” said Miriam. “Where we can see those blue flowers.”

They did as she suggested, and sat down in a corner where a triangular bed of stock and delphinium brightened the asphalted traceries of the Recreation Ground.

“I wonder what they call those flowers,” she said. “I always like them. They’re handsome.”

“Delphicums and larkspurs,” said Mr. Polly. “They used to be in the park at Port Burdock.

“Floriferous corner,” he added approvingly.

He put an arm over the back of the seat, and assumed a more comfortable attitude. He glanced at Miriam, who was sitting in a lax, thoughtful pose with her eyes on the flowers. She was wearing her old dress, she had not had time to change, and the blue tones of her old dress brought out a certain warmth in her skin, and her pose exaggerated whatever was feminine in her rather lean and insufficient body, and rounded her flat chest delusively. A little line of light lay along her profile. The afternoon was full of transfiguring sunshine, children were playing noisily in the adjacent sandpit, some Judas trees were brightly abloom in the villa gardens that bordered the Recreation Ground, and all the place was bright with touches of young summer colour. It all merged with the effect of Miriam in Mr. Polly’s mind.

Her thoughts found speech. “One did ought to be happy in a shop,” she said with a note of unusual softness in her voice.