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regard。　　Whyoh；　why！could　she　not　then　and　there　cry　out：　〃And
I　love　himdo　you　hear？I　love　him！〃　　So　awful　did　it　seem　to　be
denying　her　love　with　these　half　lies！　　But　it　was　all　so　much　more
grim　and　hopeless　than　even　she　had　thought。　　How　inconceivable；
now；　that　she　had　ever　given　herself　up　to　this　man　for　life！　　If
only　she　could　get　away　from　him　to　her　room；　and　scheme　and　think！
For　his　eyes　never　left　her；　travelling　over　her　with　their
pathetic　greed；　their　menacing　inquiry；　till　he　said：　〃Well；　it's
not　done　you　any　harm。　　You　look　very　fit。〃　　But　his　touch　was　too
much　even　for　her　self…command；　and　she　recoiled　as　if　he　had
struck　her。

〃What's　the　matter？　　Did　I　hurt　you？〃

It　seemed　to　her　that　he　was　jeeringthen　realized　as　vividly　that
he　was　not。　　And　the　full　danger　to　her；　perhaps　to　Mark　himself；
of　shrinking　from　this　man；　striking　her　with　all　its　pitiable
force；　she　made　a　painful　effort；　slipped　her　hand　under　his　arm；
and　said：　〃I'm　very　tired。　　You　startled　me。〃

But　he　put　her　hand　away；　and　turning　his　face；　stared　out　of　the
window。　　And　so　they　reached　their　home。

When　he　had　left　her　alone；　she　remained　where　she　was　standing；　by
her　wardrobe；　without　sound　or　movement；　thinking：　What　am　I　going
to　do？　　How　am　I　going　to　live？


IX


When　Mark　Lennan；　travelling　through　from　Beaulieu；　reached　his
rooms　in　Chelsea；　he　went　at　once　to　the　little　pile　of　his
letters；　twice　hunted　through　them；　then　stood　very　still；　with　a
stunned；　sick　feeling。　　Why　had　she　not　sent　him　that　promised
note？　　And　now　he　realizedthough　not　yet　to　the　fullwhat　it
meant　to　be　in　love　with　a　married　woman。　　He　must　wait　in　this
suspense　for　eighteen　hours　at　least；　till　he　could　call；　and　find
out　what　had　happened　to　prevent　her；　till　he　could　hear　from　her
lips　that　she　still　loved　him。　　The　chilliest　of　legal　lovers　had
access　to　his　love；　but　he　must　possess　a　soul　that　was　on　fire；　in
this　deadly　patience；　for　fear　of　doing　something　that　might
jeopardize　her。　　Telegraph？　　He　dared　not。　　Write？　　She　would　get
it　by　the　first　post；　but　what　could　he　say　that　was　not　dangerous；
if　Cramier　chanced　to　see？　　Call？　　Still　more　impossible　till　three
o'clock；　at　very　earliest；　to…morrow。　　His　gaze　wandered　round　the
studio。　　Were　these　household　gods；　and　all　these　works　of　his；
indeed　the　same　he　had　left　twenty　days　ago？　　They　seemed　to　exist
now　only　in　so　far　as　she　might　come　to　see　themcome　and　sit　in
such　a　chair；　and　drink　out　of　such　a　cup；　and　let　him　put　this
cushion　for　her　back；　and　that　footstool　for　her　feet。　　And　so
vividly　could　he　see　her　lying　back　in　that　chair　looking　across　at
him；　that　he　could　hardly　believe　she　had　never　yet　sat　there。　　It
was　odd　howwithout　any　resolution　taken；　without　admission　that
their　love　could　not　remain　platonic；　without　any　change　in　their
relations；　save　one　humble　kiss　and　a　few　whispered　words
everything　was　changed。　　A　month　or　so　ago；　if　he　had　wanted；　he
would　have　gone　at　once　calmly　to　her　house。　　It　would　have　seemed
harmless；　and　quite　natural。　　Now　it　was　impossible　to　do　openly
the　least　thing　that　strict　convention　did　not　find　desirable。
Sooner　or　later　they　would　find　him　stepping　over　convention；　and
take　him　for　what　he　was　nota　real　lover！　　A　real　lover！　　He
knelt　down　before　the　empty　chair　and　stretched　out　his　arms。　　No
substanceno　warmthno　fragrancenothing！　　Longing　that　passed
through　air；　as　the　wind　through　grass。

He　went　to　the　little　round　window；　which　overlooked　the　river。
The　last　evening　of　May；　gloaming　above　the　water；　dusk　resting　in
the　trees；　and　the　air　warm！　　Better　to　be　out；　and　moving　in　the
night；　out　in　the　ebb　and　flow　of　things；　among　others　whose　hearts
were　beating；　than　stay　in　this　place　that　without　her　was　so　cold
and　meaningless。

Lampsthe　passion…fruit　of　townswere　turning　from　pallor　to　full
orange；　and　the　stars　were　coming　out。　　Half…past　nine！　　At　ten
o'clock；　and　not　before；　he　would　walk　past　her　house。　　To　have
this　something　to　look　forward　to；　however　furtive　and　barren；
helped。　　But　on　a　Saturday　night　there　would　be　no　sitting　at　the
House。　　Cramier　would　be　at　home；　or　they　would　both　be　out；　or
perhaps　have　gone　down　to　their　river　cottage。　　Cramier！　　What
cruel　demon　had　presided　over　that　marring　of　her　life！　　Why　had　he
never　met　her　till　after　she　had　bound　herself　to　this　man！　　From　a
negative　contempt　for　one　who　was　either　not　sensitive　enough　to
recognize　that　his　marriage　was　a　failure；　or　not　chivalrous　enough
to　make　that　failure　bear　as　little　hardly　as　possible　on　his　wife；
he　had　come　already　to　jealous　hatred　as　of　a　monster。　　To　be　face
to　face　with　Cramier　in　a　mortal　conflict　could　alone　have
satisfied　his　feeling。　。　。　。　　Yet　he　was　a　young　man　by　nature
gentle！

His　heart　beat　desperately　as　he　approached　that　streetone　of
those　little　old　streets；　so　beautiful；　that　belonged　to　a　vanished
London。　　It　was　very　narrow；　there　was　no　shelter；　and　he　thought
confusedly　of　what　he　could　say；　if　met　in　this　remote　backwater
that　led　nowhere。　　He　would　tell　some　lie；　no　doubt。　　Lies　would
now　be　his　daily　business。　　Lies　and　hatred；　those　violent　things
of　life；　would　come　to　seem　quite　natural；　in　the　violence　of　his
love。

He　stood　a　moment；　hesitating；　by　the　rails　of　the　old　church。
Black；　white…veined；　with　shadowy　summits；　in　that　half　darkness；
it　was　like　some　gigantic　vision。　　Mystery　itself　seemed　modelled
there。　　He　turned　and　walked　quickly　down　the　street　close　to　the
houses　on　the　further　side。　　The　windows　of　her　house　were　lighted！
So；　she　was　not　away！　　Dim　light　in　the　dining…room；　lights　in　the
room　aboveher　bedroom；　doubtless。　　Was　there　no　way　to　bring　her
to　the　window；　no　way　his　spirit　could　climb　up　there　and　beckon
hers　out　to　him？　　Perhaps　she　was　not　there；　perhaps　it　was　but　a
servant　taking　up　hot　water。　　He　was　at　the　end　of　the　street　by
now；　but　to　leave　without　once　more　passing　was　impossible。　　And
this　time　he　went　slowly；　his　head　down；　feigning　abstraction；
grudging　every　inch　of　pavement；　and　all　the　time　furtively
searching　that　window　with　the　light　behind　the　curtains。　　Nothing！
Once　more　he　was　close　to　the　railings　of　the　church；　and　once　more
could　not　bring　himself　to　go　away。　　In　the　little；　close；　deserted
street；　not　a　soul　was　moving；　not　even　a　cat　or　dog；　nothing　alive
but　many　discreet；　lighted　windows。　　Like　veiled　faces；　showing　no
emotion；　they　seemed　to　watch　his　indecision。　　And　he　thought：　〃Ah；
well！　　I　dare　say　there　are　lots　like　me。　　Lots　as　near；　and　yet　as
far　away！　　Lots　who　have　to　suffer！〃　　But　what　would　he　not　have
given　for　the　throwing　open　of　those　curtains。　　Then；　suddenly
scared　by　an　approaching　figure；　he　turned　and　walked　away。


X


At　three　o'clock　next　day　he　called。

In　the　middle　of　her　white　drawing…room；　whose　latticed　window　ran
the　whole　length　of　one　wall；　stood　a　little　table　on　which　was　a
silver　jar　full　of　early　larkspurs；　evidently　from　her　garden　by
the　river。　　And　Lennan　waited；　his　eyes　fixed　on　those　blossoms　so
like　to　little　blue　butterflies　and　strange…hued　crickets；　tethered
to　the　pale　green　stems。　　In　this　room　she　passed　her　days；　guarded
from　him。　　Once　a　week；　at　most；　he　would　be　able　to　come　there
once　a　week　for　an　hour　or　two　of　the　hundred　and　sixty…eight　hours
that　he　longed　to　be　with　her。

And　suddenly　he　was　conscious　of　her。　　She　had　come　in　without
sound；　and　was　standing　by　the　piano；　so　pale；　in　her　cream…white
dress；　that　her　eyes　looked　jet　black。　　He　hardly　knew　that　face；
like　a　flower　closed　against　cold。

What　had　he　done？　　What　had　happened　in　these　five　days　to　make　her
like　this　to　him？　　He　took　her　hands　and　tried　to　kiss　them；　but
she　said　quickly：

〃He's　in！〃

At　that　he　stood　silent；　looking　into　that　face；　frozen　to　a
dreadful　composure；　on　the　breaking　up　of　which　his　very　life
seemed　to　depend。　　At　last　he　said：

〃What　is　it？　　Am　I　nothing　to　you；　after　all？〃

But　as　soon　as　he　had　spoken　he　saw　that　he　need　not　have　asked；
and　flung　his　arms　round　her。　　She　clung　to　him　with　desperation；
then　freed　herself；　and　said：

〃No；　no；　let's　sit　down　quietly！〃

He　obeyed；　half…divining；　half…refusing　to　admit　all　that　lay
behind　that　strange　coldness；　and　this　desperate　embrace；　all　the
self…pity；　and　self…loathing；　shame；　rage；　and　longing　of　a　married
woman　for　the　first　time　face　to　face　with　her　lover　in　her
husband's　house。

She　seemed　now　to　be　trying　to　make　him　forget　her　strange
behaviour；　to　be　what　she　had　been　during　that　fortnight　in　the
sunshine。　　But；　suddenly；　just　moving　her　lips；　she　said：

〃Quick！　　When　can　we　see　each　other？　　I　will　come　to　you　to　tea
to…morrow；〃　and；　following　her　eyes；　he　saw　the　door　opening；　and
Cramier　coming　in。　　Unsmiling；　very　big　in　the　low　room；　he　crossed
over　to　them；　and　offered　his　hand　to　Lennan；　then　drawing　a　low
chair　forward　between　their　two　chairs；　sat　down。

〃So　you're　back；〃　he　said。　　〃Have　a　good　time？〃

〃Thanks；　yes；　very。〃

〃Luck　for　Olive　you　were　there；　those　places　are　dull　holes。〃

〃It　was　luck　for　me。〃

〃No　doubt。〃　　And　with　those　words　he　turned　to　his　wife。　　His
elbows　rested　along　the　arms　of　his　chair；　so　that　his　clenched
palms　were　upwards；　it　was　as　if　he　knew　that　he　was　holding　those
two；　gripped　one　in　each　hand。

〃I　wonder；〃　he　said　slowly；　〃that　fellows　like　you；　with　nothing　in
the　world　to　tie　them；　ever　sit　down　in　a　place　like　London。　　I
should　have　thought　Rome　or　Paris　were　your　happy　hunting…grounds。〃
In　his　voice；　in　those　eyes　of　his；　a　little　bloodshot；　with　their
look　of　power；　in　his　whole　attitude；　there　was　a　sort　of　muffled
menace；　and　contempt；　as　though　he　were　thinking：　〃Step　into　my
path；　and　I　will　crush　you！〃

And　Lennan　thought：

〃How　long　must　I　sit　here？〃　　Then；　past　that　figure　planted　solidly
between　them；　he　caught　a　look　from　her；　swift；　sure；　marvellously
timedagain　and　againas　if　she　were　being　urged　by　the　very
presence　of　this　danger。　　One　of　those　glances　would　surelysurely
be　seen　by　Cramier。　　Is　there　need　for　fear　that　a　swallow　should
dash　itself　against　the　wall　o