"This marrying and giving in marriage is the devil, isn't it?" Gilbert
went on. "We ought to cheer ourselves up, Quinny!"

"We ought, Gilbert!"

"Let's go and see my play. Perhaps that'll make us feel merry and
bright!..."

"No," said Henry. "It wouldn't. It 'ud depress us. We'd keep thinking of
Ninian and Roger. I think we ought to get drunk, Gilbert, very and
incredibly drunk...."

"I should feel like Mrs. Clutters' husband if I did that," Gilbert
answered. "Aren't there any other forms of debauchery? Couldn't we go to
a music-hall or a picture-palace or something? Or we might discuss our
future!..."

"I'm sick of this boarding house we're in," Henry exclaimed.

"So am I, but I don't feel like setting up house again. I'm certain
you'd go and get married the moment we'd settled into a place...."

"I'm not a marrying man, Gilbert," Henry interrupted.

"Well, what are you, Quinny?"

"I don't know!"

They were wandering aimlessly along the streets. They had drifted along
Regent Street, and then had drifted into Oxford Street, and were going
slowly in the direction of Marble Arch.

"Quinny!" said Gilbert after a while.

"Yes?" Henry answered.

"Have you ... have you seen Cecily since you came back?"

"Yes. Twice!"

Gilbert did not ask the question which was on the tip of his tongue, but
Henry was willing to give the answer without being asked.

"She didn't appear to know I'd been away," he said.

"She knew all the same!..."

"She just said, 'Hilloa, Paddy I' and went on talking to the other
people who were there too. I tried to outstay them, but Jimphy came in
the first time, and there was a painter there the second time, who
wouldn't budge. He's painting her portrait. I've not seen her since...."

"You're glad, aren't you, that I kidnapped you, Quinny?"

"In a way, yes!"

"You got on with your book, anyhow. You'd never have done that if you'd
stayed in town, trailing after Cecily!"

"I can't quite make you out, Gilbert," Henry said, turning to his
friend. "Are you in love with Cecily?"

Gilbert nodded his head. "Of course, I am, but what's the good? Cecily
doesn't love me any more than she loves you. She doesn't love any man
particularly. She's ... just an Appetite. You and I are no more to her
than ... than the caramel she ate last Tuesday. The only hope for us is
that we shall grow out of this caramel state or at all events get the
upper hand of it.... In the meantime, what are we going