It's you.
But through it I imagine another perfume. It's here, too. It's been
with me for months. Because I've got to feel it's her spirit, her
_leitmotif_. The perfume of fresias. Do you know it?"
"I thought maybe she liked it," mother said calmly.
"What put that idea in your darling head?"
"Why, because you've been havin' fresias planted in the garden--and in
your room--as long as they lasted through the spring. You'd never
thought of 'em before as I know of."
"You witch! You notice everything. Who'd believe it, you're so quiet?"
"Of course I notice things about you. I wouldn't be fit to be your
mother if I didn't. Now, do you feel like tellin' me things about
her?"
"I'm longing to," said Peter.
They forgot it was late at night. He told her everything, beginning at
the moment when he had plunged through the dryad door and going on to
the moment when he had lost, not only the girl, but her friendship,
though he said nothing of the Moon dress or the shut-up house. Even
then he did not stop.
"I must have done something inadvertently," he went on, "to make her
stop liking me all of a sudden. For she did like me at first.
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