t of all right,
kid.' Enormous from Charlie, wasn't it?"

Mother and daughter went out arm in arm like two young girls. Beyond
question they were highly pleased with themselves and the world. Eve
returned after a moment.

"Are you comfortable, dear? I've told Machin you mustn't on any account
be disturbed. Charlie's borrowed the car. We shall get a taxi in the
Bayswater Road." She bent down and seemed to bury her soft lips in his
cheek. She was beginning to have other interests than himself. And since
she had nothing now to worry about, in a maternal sense, she had become
a child. She was fat--at any rate nobody could describe her as less than
plump--and over forty, but a child, an exquisite child. He magnificently
let her kiss him. However, he knew that she knew that she was his sole
passion. She whispered most intimately and persuasively into his ear:

"Shall we have a look at that house to-morrow morning, just you and I?
You'll love the furniture."

"Perhaps," he replied. What else could he reply? He very much desired to
have a talk with her about Sissie and the fellow Morfey; but he could
not broach the subject because he could not tell her in cold blood that
he had seen Sissie in Morfey's arms. To do so would have an effect like
setting fire to the home. Unless, of course, Sissie had already confided
in her mother? Was it conceivable that Eve had a secret from him? It was
certainly conceivable that he had a secret from Eve. Not only was he
hiding from her his knowledge of the startling development in the
relations between Sissie and Morfey,--he had not even told her that he
had seen the house in Manchester Square. He was leading a double
life,--consequence of riches! Was she?

As soon as she had softly closed the door he composed himself, for he
was in fact considerably exhausted. Remembering a conversation at the
club with a celebrated psycho-analyst about the possibilities of
auto-suggestion, he strove to empty his mind and then to repeat to
himself very rapidly in a low murmur: "You will sleep, you will sleep,
you will sleep, you will sleep," innumerable times. But the incantation
would not work, probably because he could not keep his mind empty. The
mysterious receptacle filled faster than he could empty it. It filled
till it flowed over with the flooding realisation of the awful
complexity of existence. He longed to maintain its simplicity, well
aware that his happiness would result from simplicity alone.