Australian Hospital (17 page)

“It makes me love you even more, Stephen—but you never told me yet when you first knew.”

“It was the morning after we disembarked, when I came here to the home. They were all out to greet me—Eve, Ferry, the patients who could manoeuvre their chairs. And then there was you—

“There were cries of ‘Ash’ everywhere—but one cool voice said ‘Stephen’. I looked round and saw a sprig of lilac, and I
knew
.”

“That was when I believe I knew, too,” said Candace eagerly. “There was a newness about me, a loneliness, then you pulled up and I felt I was at home.”

“What time we have been wasting. You with your deceit about John—”

“I never deceived.”

“Your perverseness then. You know, sweetheart, Australian men are old-fashioned. They like biddable wives. They insist on the obedience clause being left in their marriage rites.”

Candace was dimpling.

“In lots of ceremonies now—” she began obstinately. “
Not in ours
.”

He had her in his arms again. “If any aide comes in here within the next five minutes she’ll never set foot any more in Manathunka.”

His lips were on hers—hard, seeking—Love, that many-splendoured thing, had them in its embrace.

When they came out of the Honoraries’ Office the deluge was easing.

They moved towards the big doors, then voices halted them.

The first they recognised as Miss Walsh’s.

“What do I go on to after I finish the alphabet, Miss Breen?”

Stephen held Candace back. His lips sought her ear. “Yes, Barbara’s here again. I phoned her the moment Eve handed in her resignation. I felt the money must come from somewhere. Somehow I didn’t care, anyhow, so I just sat down and phoned.”

There was a tap that sounded like a typewriter.

Candace raised inquiring brows.

“Electrically controlled so that there is no effort on her poor wasted fingers. One of our local bodies donated it on Barbara’s suggestion.”

“You mean Babs has found something at last? She always said she would.”

“It seems like it. Miss Walsh is the type, we have discovered, who must do something
tangibly
useful. It is of no use giving her bookmarks or rabbits. It has to be
really
practical. I have promised that when she is sufficiently proficient she shall type my notes.”

The tap resumed. A happy busy tap.

“Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party,” recited Miss Walsh eagerly. “Miss Breen—Miss Breen, I did it without looking!”

The world outside was washed and beautiful.

They walked under the dripping camphor trees to the gates.

There they turned and looked back a moment, and Stephen murmured “... as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.”

Candace said, “Manathunka—morning.”

She knew that her life lay before her.
Her
life—
Stephen’s.
It was the one and the same life; they were beginning the same day.

And at this lovely moment they stood in the morning of it—the manathunka. They stood glad and unafraid.