tre with me
when Jimphy wants to go to a music-hall, and ... and so on!"

He could not rid himself of the notion that she was "chattering" in the
Lensley style.

"It would be decenter to go away together," he said.

She moved away from him angrily. "You're a prig, Paddy!" she exclaimed.
"You can go to Ireland. I don't care!"

He got up as if to go, but did not move away. He stood beside her
irresolutely, wishing to go and wishing to stay, and then he bent over
her and touched her. "Cecily," he said, "come with me!"

"No!" she answered, keeping her back to him.

"Very well," he said, and he walked across the room towards the door.
His hand was on the handle when she called to him.

"Aren't you going to stay to lunch?" she said.

"You told me to go!..."

"Yes, but I didn't mean immediately. I shall be all alone."

He went back to her very quickly, and sat down beside her and folded her
in his arms.

"I loathe you," he cried, with his lips pressed against her cheek. "I
loathe you because you're so selfish and brutal. You don't really care
for me...."

"Oh, I do, Paddy I ..."

"No, you don't. You were making love to Ninian last night!..."

"So that's it, is it?..."

"No, it isn't. Ninian doesn't care about you or about any woman. He's
not like me, a soft, sloppy fool. You don't love me. If I were to leave
you now, you'd find some one to take my place quite easily. Lensley or
Boltt!..."

"They're too middle-aged, Paddy!"

He pushed her away from him. "Damn it, can't you be serious!" he shouted
at her.

"You're very rude," she replied.

"I'd like to beat you! I'd like to hurt you!..."

She smiled at him and then she put her arms about his neck and drew him
towards her. "You don't loathe me, Paddy," she said softly, soothing him
with her voice, "you love me, don't you?"

"Will you come away with me? Now?"

"No!" She kissed him and got up. "Let's go to lunch," she said.

He felt that he ought to leave her then, but he followed her meekly
enough.

"I don't think I'll stay to lunch," he said weakly.

"Yes, you will!" she replied. "You can take me to a picture gallery
afterwards!..."

4

They did not go to a picture gallery. The spring air was so fresh that
she declared she must go for a drive.

"Let's go to Hampstead!" he said, signalling to a taxi-driver. "Well
have tea at Jack Straw's Castle!"

"Yes, let's!" she exclaimed.

She had tried to persuade him not to return to Ireland, but h