Mickle says, to-night? And catches them, and puts them in her smock pockets, and laughs like a girl.

Yay!

Later, De Roth stood nervously by the door and looked at the floor. Stock grinned at him cheerfully. "Thanks. I--it was good of you to give me your soup." "Nonsense. I do whatever Florian tells me. Besides, it's no sacrifice for someone like you." "Like me?" Stock gave him another friendly look and nodded. "I'll have a poem for you by to-morrow." De Roth blushed awkwardly.