You've got to
_have_ dream-flowers first, or naturally they can't materialise."
"I suppose all of us have had our dream-flowers at one time or another," he
replied quietly. "And then the frost has come along and scotched them. But
I forgot!"--with a short laugh. "You're one of the people who believe that
if you think and believe them hard enough, your dreams will come true,
aren't you? I remember your flinging that bit of philosophy in my face the
first time we met--at the Kursaal."
"Yes," she acquiesced. "But if you haven't any, they can't come true, can
they?"
"I don't imagine that what we hope or think makes any perceptible
difference," he said shortly.
"That's because you're a cynic! I think it makes _all_ the difference.
Robin and I are a concrete example of it. We've always wanted to live
together--we hung on to the thought in our minds all the time circumstances
kept us apart. And now, you see, here we are--doing precisely what we
wanted to do."
"I see that you're a very good advocate," he replied smiling. And then
Robin came out of the house and joined them and the conversation drifted
away on to more general lines.
It was late in the afternoon before Coventry finally proposed taking his
way homeward--so late that Robin suggested he might as well make it still
later and stay to dinner with them.
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