but could bring himself to make no
advances to others. A fear of rebuff prevented him from affability, and he
concealed his shyness, which was still intense, under a frigid
taciturnity. He was going through the same experience as he had done at
school, but here the freedom of the medical students' life made it
possible for him to live a good deal by himself.

It was through no effort of his that he became friendly with Dunsford, the
fresh-complexioned, heavy lad whose acquaintance he had made at the
beginning of the session. Dunsford attached himself to Philip merely
because he was the first person he had known at St. Luke's. He had no
friends in London, and on Saturday nights he and Philip got into the habit
of going together to the pit of a music-hall or the gallery of a theatre.
He was stupid, but he was good-humoured and never took offence; he always
said the obvious thing, but when Philip laughed at him merely smiled. He
had a very sweet smile. Though Philip made him his butt, he liked him; he
was amused by his candour and delighted with his agreeable nature:
Dunsford had the charm which himself was acutely conscious of not
possessing.

They often went to have tea at a shop in Parliament Street, because
Dunsford admired one of the young women who waited. Philip did not find
anything attractive in her. She was tall and thin, with narrow hips and
the chest of a boy.

"No one would look at her in Paris," said Philip scornfully.

"She's got a ripping face," said Dunsford.

"What DOES the face matter?"

She had the small regular features, the blue eyes, and the broad low brow,
which the Victorian painters, Lord Leighton, Alma Tadema, and a hundred
others, induced the world they lived in to accept as a type of Greek
beauty. She seemed to have a great deal of hair: it was arranged with
peculiar elaboration and done over the forehead in what she called an
Alexandra fringe. She was very anaemic. Her thin lips were pale, and her
skin was delicate, of a faint green colour, without a touch of red even in
the cheeks. She had very good teeth. She took great pains to prevent her
work from spoiling her hands, and they were small, thin, and white. She
went about her duties with a bored look.

Dunsford, very shy with women, had never succeeded in getting into
conversation with her; and he urged Philip to help him.

"All I want is a lead," he said, "and then I can manage for myself."

Philip, to please him, made one or two