"He's ready for me," said Annette. . . . "I wanted to go to him to-night, but I'll wait until to-morrow if you like."
"No," he said. "No, I think it would be best if you told your mother now and went away at once. It will save many tears. We shall have the night to get used to the idea. . . . It's a new idea; rather a difficult one to digest--our little Annette a married woman."
She told him then that Bennett was coming for her to the end of the street.
"Could you? I never thought they were so little. . . . Don't brides usually have trousseaux?"
"I'm to have nothing that brides usually have. I don't want anything."
Francis filled the twelfth little pot, and very deliberately squeezed the mould down with his thumbs.
"I think," he said, "I think that while you are talking to your mother I will walk along and see my--my son-in-law."
"Yes. . . . Yes. Bennett will be glad to see you."
They left the greenhouse. He watched Annette run upstairs, took his hat and stick and walked up the street. At the corner he saw a lean figure, standing under a lamp-post. It was Bennett. He was seized by a sudden fierce desire to hurt him and he gripped his stick more tightly and sawed with it up and down. He was walking rather faster than he knew and caught up with Bennett before the sudden mood had passed. His stick swung in the air, and Bennett was roused from his dreams of bliss by a sudden thwack across his loins. He was more startled than hurt, for he had not heard any approach.
"Ooh!" he cried, then recognised his assailant. "Mr. Folyat!"
Francis breathed heavily and raised his stick again. To feel Bennett's flesh yielding under his blow had given him an intense and peculiar satisfaction, a pleasure so unwonted that his senses craved more of it. His mind however had shot ahead of his mood and he dropped his stick and said:
"I beg your pardon. . . . That was not what I intended. My intentions are frequently belied by my performances. . . . Did I hurt you?"
"You did." Bennett rubbed his thigh ruefully, then stooped and restored his stick to Francis. They stared at each other by the light of the lamp-post and at length Francis said:
"Annette is telling her mother. She has just told me. I propose to stay with you until she comes. We should--a--we should know each other better."