by
and fat. The last one, long and harmoniously, continuously curved from
knee to breast, had been an Eve by Cranach; but this, this one was a bad
Rubens.

"...go--go--go!" Henry Wimbush's polite level voice once more pronounced
the formula. Another batch of young ladies dived in.

Grown a little weary of sustaining a conversation with Mrs. Budge,
Denis conveniently remembered that his duties as a steward called him
elsewhere. He pushed out through the lines of spectators and made his
way along the path left clear behind them. He was thinking again that
his soul was a pale, tenuous membrane, when he was startled by hearing
a thin, sibilant voice, speaking apparently from just above his head,
pronounce the single word "Disgusting!"

He looked up sharply. The path along which he was walking passed under
the lee of a wall of clipped yew. Behind the hedge the ground sloped
steeply up towards the foot of the terrace and the house; for one
standing on the higher ground it was easy to look over the dark barrier.
Looking up, Denis saw two heads overtopping the hedge immediately above
him. He recognised the iron mask of Mr. Bodiham and the pale, colourless
face of his wife. They were looking over his head, over the heads of the
spectators, at the swimmers in the pond.

"Disgusting!" Mrs. Bodiham repeated, hissing softly.

The rector turned up his iron mask towards the solid cobalt of the sky.
"How long?" he said, as though to himself; "how long?" He lowered his
eyes again, and they fell on Denis's upturned curious face. There was an
abrupt movement, and Mr. and Mrs. Bodiham popped out of sight behind the
hedge.

Denis continued his promenade. He wandered past the merry-go-round,
through the thronged streets of the canvas village; the membrane of
his soul flapped tumultuously in the noise and laughter. In a roped-off
space beyond, Mary was directing the children's sports. Little creatures
seethed round about her, making a shrill, tinny clamour; others
clustered about the skirts and trousers of their parents. Mary's face
was shining in the heat; with an immense output of energy she started a
three-legged race. Denis looked on in admiration.

"You're wonderful," he said, coming up behind her and touching her on
the arm. "I've never seen such energy."

She turned towards him a face, round, red, and honest as the setting
sun; the golden bell of her hair swung silently as she moved her head
and quivered to rest.

"Do you k