bright way, telling him of a new commission
she had to provide a novelette for a firm which had not hitherto employed
her. She was to get fifteen guineas for it.

"It's money from the clouds. I'll tell you what we'll do, we'll stand
ourselves a little jaunt. Let's go and spend a day at Oxford, shall we?
I'd love to see the colleges."

He looked at her to see whether there was any shadow of reproach in her
eyes; but they were as frank and merry as ever: she was overjoyed to see
him. His heart sank. He could not tell her the brutal truth. She made some
toast for him, and cut it into little pieces, and gave it him as though he
were a child.

"Is the brute fed?" she asked.

He nodded, smiling; and she lit a cigarette for him. Then, as she loved to
do, she came and sat on his knees. She was very light. She leaned back in
his arms with a sigh of delicious happiness.

"Say something nice to me," she murmured.

"What shall I say?"

"You might by an effort of imagination say that you rather liked me."

"You know I do that."

He had not the heart to tell her then. He would give her peace at all
events for that day, and perhaps he might write to her. That would be
easier. He could not bear to think of her crying. She made him kiss her,
and as he kissed her he thought of Mildred and Mildred's pale, thin lips.
The recollection of Mildred remained with him all the time, like an
incorporated form, but more substantial than a shadow; and the sight
continually distracted his attention.

"You're very quiet today," Norah said.

Her loquacity was a standing joke between them, and he answered:

"You never let me get a word in, and I've got out of the habit of
talking."

"But you're not listening, and that's bad manners."

He reddened a little, wondering whether she had some inkling of his
secret; he turned away his eyes uneasily. The weight of her irked him this
afternoon, and he did not want her to touch him.

"My foot's gone to sleep," he said.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, jumping up. "I shall have to bant if I can't
break myself of this habit of sitting on gentlemen's knees."

He went through an elaborate form of stamping his foot and walking about.
Then he stood in front of the fire so that she should not resume her
position. While she talked he thought that she was worth ten of Mildred;
she amused him much more and was jollier to talk to; she was cleverer, and
she had a much nicer nature. She was a good, brave, hon