He was surrounded by wind-blown flower-pollen which seemed to him the yellow flames of separation. And when the gardener saw him in this state, he went and told the king. And the king was troubled. He went himself to see Good, and asked him soothingly: "What does this mean? Tell me, my friend. Where did you go? And where did you come? And where did you stay? And what did you fall into?"
"Hiding," Tim said quickly. "About," added Judy. There was a hush in all their voices. The Tramp picked the small feather from his beard apparently a water- wagtail's and appeared to reflect a moment. He held the soft feather tenderly between a thumb and finger that were thick as a walking-stick and stained with roadside mud and yellow with flower-pollen too. "Hiding, is he?"
And though she herself was four years younger, she felt old and mature, and terribly wise compared with Sister Rose. An awful sense of responsibility was upon her. She was afraid of it. Her pretty blond face, with its bright and shrewd gray eyes, looked almost drawn, and lost the fresh colour that made the little golden freckles charming as the dust of flower-pollen on her rounded cheeks.
When Brewer came into the kitchen a moment later, Letts had taken a seat. Beside him on the floor lay a large tissue-wrapped package and in his hands he held a shiny new hat. "Sure, I've heard he's back," he grinned, brushing a little flower-pollen from a very loud trouser leg. "How'd it happen?" Sandy handed Brewer a cigar and stuck one, jauntily, in his own mouth.