But it was too bad he had just got there with that blizzard. The weather had been perfectly divine till the day before yesterday. He took the spray of forceythia out of his buttonhole. "I can believe it. I found this in one, of the squares, and I think it belongs to you." He offered it with a bow and a laugh, and she took it in the same humour. "What is the language of forceythia?" she asked.
They both laughed, and Dan looked about the room, which he found was a private hotel parlour, softened to a more domestic effect by the signs of its prolonged occupation by two refined women. On a table stood a leather photograph envelope with three cabinet pictures in it. Along the top lay a spray of withered forceythia. Dan's wandering eyes rested on it.
Without asking his heart too curiously why, he found it lighter; he felt that he was still young. In the weather he had struck a cold wave, and the wind was bitter in the streets, but they were full of sun; he found the grass green in sheltered places, and in one of the Circles he plucked a blossomed spray from an adventurous forceythia.