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.

How I like your idea of an open-air drawing-room! Mr.Foley hasn't been looking for me, has he?
I am due in his study in three minutes." Her finger touched his arm.
"Come with me for one moment," she insisted, a little abruptly.
She led him down one of the walks--a narrow turf path, leading through great clumps of rhododendrons.

At the bottom was the wood where the nightingale had his home.

After a few paces she stopped.
"Mr.Maraton," she said, "this may be our last serious word together, for when you have talked with my uncle you will have made your decision.
Look at me, please." He looked at her.