Next door Holly too was awake, thinking of the lashes above and below
Val's eyes, especially below; and of what she could do to make Jolly
like him better. The scent of the gardenia was strong in her little
bedroom, and pleasant to her.
And Val, leaning out of his first-floor window in B.N.C., was gazing
at a moonlit quadrangle without seeing it at all, seeing instead Holly,
slim and white-frocked, as she sat beside the fire when he first went
in.
But Jolly, in his bedroom narrow as a ghost, lay with a hand beneath
his cheek and dreamed he was with Val in one boat, rowing a race against
him, while his father was calling from the towpath: 'Two! Get your hands
away there, bless you!'