t Garden, towards
Bloomsbury. They did not speak for some time, for they were tired and
their minds were too full of other things. Once indeed, Gilbert began to
speak ... "I think I could improve the second act a little ..." but he
did not finish his sentence, and Henry did not ask him to do so. It was
not until they were nearly at their home that Henry spoke to Gilbert
about Cecily.

"Are you going to Lady Cecily's to-morrow?" he said.

"Eh?" Gilbert exclaimed, starting out of his dreams. "Oh, no, I think
not! Why?"

"I only wondered. She asked you, you know!"

They walked on in silence until they reached the door of their house.

"I say, Quinny," said Gilbert, while Henry opened the door, "you seem to
be very friendly with Cecily!"

Henry fumbled with the key and muttered, "Damn this door, it won't
open!"

"Let me try!..."

"It's all right now. I've done it! What were you saying, Gilbert?"

They entered the house, shutting the door behind them, and stood for a
while in the hall, removing their hats and coats.

"Oh, nothing," Gilbert replied. "I was only saying you seemed very
friendly with Cecily!"

"Well, yes, I suppose I am, but not more than most people. Are you going
to bed now or will you wait up for Ninian and Roger?"

"I shan't sleep if I go to bed ... I'm too excited. I shall read for a
while in my room ... unless you'd like to jaw a bit!"

Henry shook his head. "No," he said, "I'm too tired to jaw to-night. See
you in the morning. Good-night, Gilbert!"

"Good-night, Quinny!"

Henry went to his bedroom, leaving Gilbert in the hall, and began to
undress. His mind was full of a flat rage against Cecily. She had
consented to meet him in St. James's Park, and then, almost as she had
made her promise, she had turned to Gilbert and had invited him to call
on her, in his company, at the time she had appointed for his private
meeting with her. He did not wish to see her again. "She's fooling me,"
he said, throwing his coat on to a chair so that it fell on to the
ground where he let it lie. "I've not done a stroke of work for days on
her account, and she cares no more for me than she does for ... for
anybody. I won't go and meet her to-morrow, damn her! I'll send a
messenger to say I can't come, and then I'll drop her. It isn't worth
while going through this ... this agony for a woman who doesn't care a
curse for you!"

"I'm not going to be treated like this," he went on to himself while he
brushe