anything about Cecily?" Henry
nodded his head. "I thought so," Gilbert continued. He moved away and
sat down. "Well, tell me about it," he said.

"I'm in love with her, Gilbert!"

"Yes."

"I ... I asked her to run away with me!..."

Gilbert laughed. "You have hustled, Quinny," he said. "And she wouldn't,
eh?"

"No!" Gilbert's laughter stimulated him, and he spoke more fluently.
"But she's in love with me. She told me so. I've just come from her. And
she wants me to stay in town."

"To be near her?"

"Yes. Yes, I suppose so. I had to tell you. I felt that I must tell you.
Gilbert, I'm ashamed, but I can't help it. I love her so much that I'd
... I'd do anything for her."

Gilbert did not move nor did he speak. He sat in his chair, looking very
intently at Henry.

"I can't understand myself," Henry went on. "My feelings are hopelessly
mixed up. I want to do decent things and I loathe cads, but all the same
I do caddish things myself. I want to be straight, but I'm not straight.
... It's awfully hard to explain what I mean, but there's something in
me that seems to keep pulling me out of line, and I haven't enough force
in me to beat it. I suppose it's the mill in my blood. My grandfather
was a mill-owner."

Gilbert shook his head and smiled. "I don't think your notions of
heredity are sound, Quinny. Is that all you have to confess?"

"All?"

"Yes. There isn't anything else?"

"No. I wanted to tell you that I'm ashamed, but I must tell you, too,
that although I'm ashamed, I shan't stop loving Cecily. I can't...."

Gilbert got up and went over to him. He sat on the edge of the table so
that Henry, when he looked up, had to gaze straight at him.

"You're a rum bloke, Quinny," he said. "I'm always telling you that,
aren't I? But you were never so rum as you are now. It's no good
pretending that I don't feel ... feel anything about Cecily. I do. But
I've known about you and her for some while. I knew you'd fall in love
with her that day in the Park when you were excited about her beauty and
were so anxious that I should introduce you to her. Of course, I knew
you'd fall in love with her. I'm not a dramatist for nothing. So what
you say isn't news. I mean, it doesn't surprise me. Quinny, I'm awfully
fond of you, old chap, much more than I am of Ninian or Roger. I expect
it's because you're such a blooming baby. I'm not really upset about
your being in love with Cecily. That had to be. But I'm awfully upset