ld were built
on the Lagan....

"By God," he said to himself, "this'll break their hearts in Belfast!"

The cab drew up before the door of Cecily's house, and in a little while
he was with her.

"Have you heard about the _Gigantic_?" he said, as he walked across the
room to her.

"Oh, yes," she answered, "isn't it dreadful? Come and sit down here!"

He had not greeted her otherwise than by his question about the
_Gigantic_, and she frowned a little as she made room for him beside her
on the sofa.

"That great boat!..." he began, but she interrupted him.

"I suppose you're still cross," she said.

"Cross?"

"Yes. You haven't even shaken hands with me!"

He remembered now. "Oh!" he said in confusion, but could say no more.

"Are you really going to Ireland?" she asked, putting her hand on his
arm.

"Yes," he answered, feeling his resolution weakening just because she
had touched him.

"But why?"

"You know why!" he said.

Her hand dropped from his arm. "I don't know why," she exclaimed
pettishly, and he saw and disliked the way her lips turned downwards as
she said it.

"I can't bear it, Cecily," he exclaimed. "I must have you to myself or
... or not have you at all!"

"Perfectly absurd!" she murmured.

"It isn't absurd. How can you expect me to feel happy when I see you
going off with Jimphy? Can't you understand, Cecily? Here I am with you
now, but if Jimphy were to come into the room, I should have to ... to
give way, to pretend that I'm not in love with you!"

"I can't see what difference it makes," she said. "Jimphy and I don't
interfere with each other. It's ridiculous to make all this fuss. I
don't see any necessity to go about telling everybody!..."

"I didn't propose that," he interrupted.

"Yes, you did, Paddy, dear! You asked me to run away with you, and
what's that but telling everybody?"

He felt angry with her for what seemed to him to be flippancy. "I'm in
earnest, Cecily!" he said. "I'm not joking!"

"I'm in earnest, too. I don't want to run away with you ... not because
I don't love you ... I do love you, Paddy, very much ... but it's so
absurd to run away and make a ... a mountain out of a molehill. We
should be awfully miserable if we were to elope. We'd have to go to some
horrid place where we shouldn't know anybody and there'd be nothing to
do. Really, it's much pleasanter to go on as we are now, Paddy. You can
come here and take me to lunch sometimes and go to the thea