poignant than if it had happened. Suddenly
she felt him slip away from her, and getting up, stole out. After the
darkness of that room, the corridor seemed full of grey filmy light, as
though dream-spiders had joined the walls with their cobwebs, in which
innumerable white moths, so tiny that they could not be seen, were
struggling. Small eerie noises crept about. A sudden frightened longing
for warmth, and light, and colour came to Barbara. She fled back to her
room. But she could not sleep. That terrible mute unseen vibration in
the unlighted room-like the noiseless licking of a flame at bland air;
the touch of Miltoun's hand, hot as fire against her cheek and neck; the
whole tremulous dark episode, possessed her through and through. Thus
had the wayward force of Love chosen to manifest itself to her in all its
wistful violence. At this fiat sight of the red flower of passion her
cheeks burned; up and down her, between the cool sheets, little hot cruel
shivers ran; she lay, wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling. She thought, of
the woman whom he so loved, and wondered if she too were lying sleepless,
flung down on a bare floor, trying to cool her forehead and lips against
a cold wall.

Not for hours did she fall asleep, and then dreamed of running
desperately through fields full of tall spiky asphodel-like flowers, and
behind her was running herself.

In the morning she dreaded to go down. Could she meet Miltoun now that
she knew of the passion in him, and he knew that she knew it? She had her
breakfast brought upstairs. Before she had finished Miltoun himself came
in. He looked more than usually self-contained, not to say ironic, and
only remarked: "If you're going to ride you might take this note for me
over to old Haliday at Wippincott." By his coming she knew that he was
saying all he ever meant to say about that dark incident. And
sympathizing completely with a reticence which she herself felt to be the
only possible way out for both of them, Barbara looked at him gratefully,
took the note and said: "All right!"

Then, after glancing once or twice round the room, Miltoun went away.

He left her restless, divested of the cloak 'of course,' in a strange
mood of questioning, ready as it were for the sight of the magpie wings
of Life, and to hear their quick flutterings. Talk jarred on her that
morning, with its sameness and attachment to the facts of the present and
the future, its essential concern