h to breed contempt, but sufficient to
remove those outer defences to intimacy, the conquest of which, in other
circumstances, demands the conscious effort which warns people whither
they are going.

Summerhay had not realized the extent of the danger, but he had known
that it existed, especially since Scotland. It would be interesting--as
the historians say--to speculate on what he would have done, if he could
have foretold what would happen. But he had certainly not foretold the
crisis of yesterday evening. He had received a telegram from her at
lunch-time, suggesting the fulfilment of a jesting promise, made in
Scotland, that she should have tea with him and see his chambers--a small
and harmless matter. Only, why had he dismissed his clerk so early?
That is the worst of gamblers--they will put a polish on the risks they
run. He had not reckoned, perhaps, that she would look so pretty, lying
back in his big Oxford chair, with furs thrown open so that her white
throat showed, her hair gleaming, a smile coming and going on her lips;
her white hand, with polished nails, holding that cigarette; her brown
eyes, so unlike Gyp's, fixed on him; her slim foot with high instep
thrust forward in transparent stocking. Not reckoned that, when he bent
to take her cup, she would put out her hands, draw his head down, press
her lips to his, and say: "Now you know!" His head had gone round, still
went round, thinking of it! That was all. A little matter--except that,
in an hour, he would be meeting the eyes of one he loved much more. And
yet--the poison was in his blood; a kiss so cut short--by what--what
counter impulse?--leaving him gazing at her without a sound, inhaling
that scent of hers--something like a pine wood's scent, only sweeter,
while she gathered up her gloves, fastened her furs, as if it had been
he, not she, who had snatched that kiss. But her hand had pressed his
arm against her as they went down the stairs. And getting into her cab
at the Temple Station, she had looked back at him with a little
half-mocking smile of challenge and comradeship and promise. The link
would be hard to break--even if he wanted to. And yet nothing would come
of it! Heavens, no! He had never thought! Marriage! Impossible!
Anything else--even more impossible! When he got back to his chambers,
he had found in the box the letter, which her telegram had repeated,
readdressed by Gyp from the Red House. And a faint uneasiness a