eck, and the wounding pressure of his body against
her breasts. And then Rose dreamed another dream.

She no longer cared to sew now, but when Tanqueray's mending was done,
she would sit for hours with her hands before her, dreaming.

He found her thus occupied one evening when he had come home after
seeing Jane. After seeing Jane he was always rather more aware of his
wife's existence than he had been, so that he was struck now by the
strange dejection of her figure. He came to her and stood, leaning
against the chimney-piece and looking down at her, as he had stood once
and looked down at Jane.

"What is it?" he said.

"It's nothing. I've a cold in me head."

"Cold in your head! You've been crying. There's a blob on your dress."
(He kissed her.) "What are you crying about?"

"I'm not cryin' about _anything_."

"But--you're crying." It gave him pain to see Rose crying.

"If I am it's the first time I've done it."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Certain. I never _was_ one for cryin', nor for bein' seen cry. It's
just--it's just sittin' here with me 'ands before me, havin' nothing to
do."

"I suppose there isn't very much for you to do."

"I've done all there is and a great deal there isn't."

"I say, shall we go to the play to-night?"

She smiled with pleasure at his thought for her. Then she shook her
head. "It's not plays I want--it's work. I'd like to have me hands full.
If we had a little house----"

"Oh no. No--no--no." He looked terrified.

"It would come a lot cheaper. Only a _little_ house, where I could do
all the work."

"I've told you before I won't let you."

"With a girl," she pleaded, "to scrub. A little house up Hampstead way."

"I don't want to live up Hampstead way."

"If you mean Uncle and Aunt," she said, "they wouldn't think of
intrudin'. We settled that, me and Uncle. I'd be as happy as the day is
long."

"You're _not_? And the day is very long, is it?"

He kissed her, first on her mouth and then on the lobe of the ear that
was next to him.

"Kissin' 's all very well," said Rose. "You never kissed me at
Hampstead, and you don't know how happy I was there. Doin' things for
you."

"I don't want things done for me."

"No. I wish you did."

"And, Rose, I don't want to be bothered with a house; to be tied to a
house; to have anything to do with a house."

"Would it worry you?"

"Abominably. And think of the horrors of moving!"

"I'd move you," said Rose.

"I couldn't. L