But at this moment, he was not bored--quite the contrary.

The sunny cottage room, with its flowers and books and needlework, and a charming woman as its centre, evidently very glad to see him, and ready to welcome any confidences he might give her, produced a sudden sharp effect upon him.

That hunger for something denied him--the "It" which he was always holding at bay--sprang upon him, and shook his self-control.
"We've known each other a long time, haven't we, Cynthia ?" he said, smiling, and holding out her ball of wool.
Cynthia hardly concealed her start of pleasure.

She looked up, shaking her hair from her white brow and temples with a graceful gesture, half responsive, half melancholy.
"So long!" she said--"it doesn't bear thinking of." "Not at all.

You haven't aged a bit.