Chapter 18

The stone seat was set between two great box trees which boiled up about it in green luxuriance so that it was hidden from the street, and indeed from the sight of those in the house. Michael, shut in by it, thought of the lovers who had found it a retreat. The smell of the box was aromatic, delicious. He picked a leaf or two and stuck them in his note-book. He was aware all at once of a sense of romance, foreign to the habit of these arid days, as if something unexpected might happen this night under the moon. Thr…