subdued her inclination to unrestrained despair; with
complete disregard of the acute pain in her head, she became gay,
light-hearted, irresponsible, joyous. There was an undercurrent of
suffering in her simulated mirth, but Perigal did not notice it; he was
taken by surprise at the sudden change in her mood. He responded to her
supposititious merriment; he laughed and joked as irrepressibly as did
Mavis.

"Quite like the old Polperro days," he replied to one of Mavis' sallies.

His remark reduced her to momentary thoughtfulness. The staple dish of
the extemporised meal was a pheasant. Perigal, despite her protests,
was heaping up her plate a second time, when he said:

"Do you know what I was dreading the whole way up?"

"That you'd got into the right train!"

"Scarcely that. I was funky you'd do the obvious sentimental thing, and
wear the old Polperro dress."

"As if I would!"

"Anyway, you haven't. Besides, it's much too cold."

He ordered champagne. Further to play the part of Circe to his Ulysses,
she drank a little of this, careless of the pain it might inflict.
Although she was worn down by her anxieties and the pain of her
abscess, it gave her an immense thrill of pleasure to notice how soon
she recovered her old ascendancy over him. Now, his admiring eyes never
left her face. Once, when he got up to hand her something, he went out
of his way to come behind her to kiss her neck.

"Little Mavis is a fascinating little devil," he remarked, as he
resumed his seat.

"That's what you thought when I met you at the station."

"I was tired and worried, and worry destroys love quicker than
anything. Now--"

"Now!"

"You've gone the shortest way to 'buck' me up."

Thus encouraged, Mavis made further efforts to captivate Perigal, and
persuade him to fulfill the desire of her heart. Now, he was constantly
about her on any and every excuse, when he would either kiss her or
caress her hair. After dinner, they sat by the fire, where they drank
coffee and smoked cigarettes. Presently, Perigal slipped on the ground
beside her, where he leaned his head against her knee, while he fondled
one of her feet. Her fingers wandered in his hair.

"Like old times, sweetheart!" he said,

"Is it?" she laughed.

"It is to me, little Mavis. I love you! I love you! I love you!"

Mavis's heart leapt. Life held promise of happiness after all.

"What have you arranged about tonight?" he asked, after a few moments'
silence.