It was still not quite dark; the clouds had opened slightly. The young man flung himself into an arm-chair, with a volume of French verse. He read one lyric, then he lay still.
"What, all in the dark!" exclaimed Mrs. Thomas, coming in. "And reading by this light." She rebuked him with timid affectionateness. Then, glancing at his white-flannelled limbs sprawled out in the gloom, she went to the door. There she turned her back to him, looking out.
"Don't these flags smell strongly in the evening?" she said at length.
He replied with a few lines of the French he had been reading.
She did not understand. There was a peculiar silence.
"A peculiar, brutal, carnal scent, iris," he drawled at length. "Isn't it?"
She laughed shortly, saying: "Eh, I don't know about that."
"It is," he asserted calmly.
He rose from his chair, went to stand beside her at the door.
There was a great sheaf of yellow iris near the window. Farther off, in the last twilight, a gang of enormous poppies balanced and flapped their gold-scarlet, which even the darkness could not quite put out.
"We ought to be feeling very sad," she said after a while.
"Why?" he asked.
"Well--isn't it Kate's last night?" she said, slightly mocking.
"She's a tartar, Kate," he said.
"Oh, she's too rude, she is really! The way she criticises the things you do, and her insolence--"
"The things I do?" he asked.
"Oh no; you can't do anything wrong. It's the things I do." Mrs. Thomas sounded very much incensed.
"Poor Kate, she'll have to lower her key," said Severn.
"Indeed she will, and a good thing too."
There was silence again.
"It's lightning," he said at last.
"Where?" she asked, with a suddenness that surprised him. She turned, met his eyes for a second. He sank his head, abashed.
"Over there in the north-east," he said, keeping his face from her. She watched his hand rather than the sky.
"Oh," she said uninterestedly.
"The storm will wheel round, you'll see," he said.
"I hope it wheels the other way, then."
"Well, it won't. You don't like lightning, do you? You'd even have to take refuge with Kate if I weren't here."
She laughed quietly at his irony.
"No," she said, quite bitterly. "Mr. Thomas is never in when he's wanted."
"Well, as he won't be urgently required, we'll acquit him, eh?"
At that moment a white flash fell across the blackness. They looked at each other, laughing. The thunder came broken and hesitatingly.
"I think we'll shut the door," said Mrs. Thomas, in normal, sufficiently distant tones. A strong woman, she locked and bolted the stiff fastenings easily. Severn pressed on the light. Mrs. Thomas noticed the untidiness of the room. She rang, and presently Kate appeared.