r new to me," his neighbour said. "There may be something
in it.... Did you see that case in the papers the other day of old
Hornblower, who left the 1820 port that fetched a guinea a bottle? When
the purchaser--poor feller!--came to drink it he found eleven bottles out
of twelve completely ullaged--ha! ha! Well, there's nothing wrong with
this"; and he drained his glass.

"No," answered Shelton.

When they rose to join the ladies, he slipped out on the lawn.

At once he was enveloped in a bath of heat. A heavy odour, sensual,
sinister, was in the air, as from a sudden flowering of amorous shrubs.
He stood and drank it in with greedy nostrils. Putting his hand down, he
felt the grass; it was dry, and charged with electricity. Then he saw,
pale and candescent in the blackness, three or four great lilies, the
authors of that perfume. The blossoms seemed to be rising at him through
the darkness; as though putting up their faces to be kissed. He
straightened himself abruptly and went in.

The guests were leaving when Shelton, who was watching; saw Antonia slip
through the drawing-room window. He could follow the white glimmer of
her frock across the lawn, but lost it in the shadow of the trees;
casting a hasty look to see that he was not observed, he too slipped out.
The blackness and the heat were stifling he took great breaths of it as
if it were the purest mountain air, and, treading softly on the grass,
stole on towards the holm oak. His lips were dry, his heart beat
painfully. The mutter of the distant thunder had quite ceased; waves of
hot air came wheeling in his face, and in their midst a sudden rush of
cold. He thought, "The storm is coming now!" and stole on towards the
tree. She was lying in the hammock, her figure a white blur in, the
heart of the tree's shadow, rocking gently to a little creaking of the
branch. Shelton held his breath; she had not heard him. He crept up
close behind the trunk till he stood in touch of her. "I mustn't startle
her," he thought. "Antonia!"

There was a faint stir in the hammock, but no answer. He stood over her,
but even then he could not see her face; he only, had a sense of
something breathing and alive within a yard of him--of something warm and
soft. He whispered again, "Antonia!" but again there came no answer, and
a sort of fear and frenzy seized on him. He could no longer hear her
breathe; the creaking of the branch had ceased. What was passing in