grudging　every　inch　of　pavement；　and　all　the　time　furtively
  searching　that　window　with　the　light　behind　the　curtains。　　Nothing！
  Once　more　he　was　close　to　the　railings　of　the　church；　and　once　more
  could　not　bring　himself　to　go　away。　　In　the　little；　close；　deserted
  street；　not　a　soul　was　moving；　not　even　a　cat　or　dog；　nothing　alive
  but　many　discreet；　lighted　windows。　　Like　veiled　faces；　showing　no
  emotion；　they　seemed　to　watch　his　indecision。　　And　he　thought：　〃Ah；
  well！　　I　dare　say　there　are　lots　like　me。　　Lots　as　near；　and　yet　as
  far　away！　　Lots　who　have　to　suffer！〃　　But　what　would　he　not　have
  given　for　the　throwing　open　of　those　curtains。　　Then；　suddenly
  scared　by　an　approaching　figure；　he　turned　and　walked　away。
  X
  At　three　o'clock　next　day　he　called。
  In　the　middle　of　her　white　drawing…room；　whose　latticed　window　ran
  the　whole　length　of　one　wall；　stood　a　little　table　on　which　was　a
  silver　jar　full　of　early　larkspurs；　evidently　from　her　garden　by
  the　river。　　And　Lennan　waited；　his　eyes　fixed　on　those　blossoms　so
  like　to　little　blue　butterflies　and　strange…hued　crickets；　tethered
  to　the　pale　green　stems。　　In　this　room　she　passed　her　days；　guarded
  from　him。　　Once　a　week；　at　most；　he　would　be　able　to　come　there
  once　a　week　for　an　hour　or　two　of　the　hundred　and　sixty…eight　hours
  that　he　longed　to　be　with　her。
  And　suddenly　he　was　conscious　of　her。　　She　had　come　in　without
  sound；　and　was　standing　by　the　piano；　so　pale；　in　her　cream…white
  dress；　that　her　eyes　looked　jet　black。　　He　hardly　knew　that　face；
  like　a　flower　closed　against　cold。
  What　had　he　done？　　What　had　happened　in　these　five　days　to　make　her
  like　this　to　him？　　He　took　her　hands　and　tried　to　kiss　them；　but
  she　said　quickly：
  〃He's　in！〃
  At　that　he　stood　silent；　looking　into　that　face；　frozen　to　a
  dreadful　composure；　on　the　breaking　up　of　which　his　very　life
  seemed　to　depend。　　At　last　he　said：
  〃What　is　it？　　Am　I　nothing　to　you；　after　all？〃
  But　as　soon　as　he　had　spoken　he　saw　that　he　need　not　have　asked；
  and　flung　his　arms　round　her。　　She　clung　to　him　with　desperation；
  then　freed　herself；　and　said：
  〃No；　no；　let's　sit　down　quietly！〃
  He　obeyed；　half…divining；　half…refusing　to　admit　all　that　lay
  behind　that　strange　coldness；　and　this　desperate　embrace；　all　the
  self…pity；　and　self…loathing；　shame；　rage；　and　longing　of　a　married
  woman　for　the　first　time　face　to　face　with　her　lover　in　her
  husband's　house。
  She　seemed　now　to　be　trying　to　make　him　forget　her　strange
  behaviour；　to　be　what　she　had　been　during　that　fortnight　in　the
  sunshine。　　But；　suddenly；　just　moving　her　lips；　she　said：
  〃Quick！　　When　can　we　see　each　other？　　I　will　come　to　you　to　tea
  to…morrow；〃　and；　following　her　eyes；　he　saw　the　door　opening；　and
  Cramier　coming　in。　　Unsmiling；　very　big　in　the　low　room；　he　crossed
  over　to　them；　and　offered　his　hand　to　Lennan；　then　drawing　a　low
  chair　forward　between　their　two　chairs；　sat　down。
  〃So　you're　back；〃　he　said。　　〃Have　a　good　time？〃
  〃Thanks；　yes；　very。〃
  〃Luck　for　Olive　you　were　there；　those　places　are　dull　holes。〃
  〃It　was　luck　for　me。〃
  〃No　doubt。〃　　And　with　those　words　he　turned　to　his　wife。　　His
  elbows　rested　along　the　arms　of　his　chair；　so　that　his　clenched
  palms　were　upwards；　it　was　as　if　he　knew　that　he　was　holding　those
  two；　gripped　one　in　each　hand。
  〃I　wonder；〃　he　said　slowly；　〃that　fellows　like　you；　with　nothing　in
  the　world　to　tie　them；　ever　sit　down　in　a　place　like　London。　　I
  should　have　thought　Rome　or　Paris　were　your　happy　hunting…grounds。〃
  In　his　voice；　in　those　eyes　of　his；　a　little　bloodshot；　with　their
  look　of　power；　in　his　whole　attitude；　there　was　a　sort　of　muffled
  menace；　and　contempt；　as　though　he　were　thinking：　〃Step　into　my
  path；　and　I　will　crush　you！〃
  And　Lennan　thought：
  〃How　long　must　I　sit　here？〃　　Then；　past　that　figure　planted　solidly
  between　them；　he　caught　a　look　from　her；　swift；　sure；　marvellously
  timedagain　and　againas　if　she　were　being　urged　by　the　very
  presence　of　this　danger。　　One　of　those　glances　would　surelysurely
  be　seen　by　Cramier。　　Is　there　need　for　fear　that　a　swallow　should
  dash　itself　against　the　wall　over　which　it　skims？　　But　he　got　up；
  unable　to　bear　it　longer。
  〃Going？〃　　That　one　suave　word　had　an　inimitable　insolence。
  He　could　hardly　see　his　hand　touching　Cramier's　heavy　fist。　　Then
  he　realized　that　she　was　standing　so　that　their　faces　when　they
  must　say　good…bye　could　not　be　seen。　　Her　eyes　were　smiling；　yet
  imploring；　her　lips　shaped　the　word：　〃To…morrow！〃　　And　squeezing
  her　hand　desperately；　he　got　away。
  He　had　never　dreamed　that　to　see　her　in　the　presence　of　the　man　who
  owned　her　would　be　so　terrible。　　For　a　moment　he　thought　that　he
  must　give　her　up；　give　up　a　love　that　would　drive　him　mad。
  He　climbed　on　to　an　omnibus　travelling　West。　　Another　twenty…four
  hours　of　starvation　had　begun。　　It　did　not　matter　at　all　what　he
  did　with　them。　　They　were　simply　so　much　aching　that　had　to　be　got
  through　somehowso　much　aching；　and　what　relief　at　the　end？　　An
  hour　or　two　with　her；　desperately　holding　himself　in。
  Like　most　artists；　and　few　Englishmen；　he　lived　on　feelings　rather
  than　on　facts；　so；　found　no　refuge　in　decisive　resolutions。　　But　he
  made　manythe　resolution　to　give　her　up；　to　be　true　to　the　ideal
  of　service　for　no　reward；　to　beseech　her　to　leave　Cramier　and　come
  to　himand　he　made　each　many　times。
  At　Hyde　Park　Corner　he　got　down；　and　went　into　the　Park；　thinking
  that　to　walk　would　help　him。
  A　great　number　of　people　were　sitting　there；　taking　mysterious
  anodyne；　doing　the　right　thing；　to　avoid　them；　he　kept　along　the
  rails；　and　ran　almost　into　the　arms　of　Colonel　and　Mrs。　Ercott；　who
  were　coming　from　the　direction　of　Knightsbridge；　slightly　flushed；
  having　lunched　and　talked　of　'Monte'　at　the　house　of　a　certain
  General。
  They　greeted　him　with　the　surprise　of　those　who　had　said　to　each
  other　many　times：　〃That　young　man　will　come　rushing　back！〃　　It　was
  very　nicethey　saidto　run　across　him。　　When　did　he　arrive？　　They
  had　thought　he　was　going　on　to　Italyhe　was　looking　rather　tired。
  They　did　not　ask　if　he　had　seen　herbeing　too　kind；　and　perhaps
  afraid　that　he　would　say　'Yes；'　which　would　be　embarrassing；　or
  that　he　would　say　'No；'　which　would　be　still　more　embarrassing　when
  they　found　that　he　ought　to　have　said　'Yes。'　　Would　he　not　come　and
  sit　with　them　a　littlethey　were　going　presently　to　see　how　Olive
  was？　　Lennan　perceived　that　they　were　warning　him。　　And；　forcing
  himself　to　look　at　them　very　straight；　he　said：　〃I　have　just　been
  there。〃
  Mrs。　Ercott　phrased　her　impressions　that　same　evening：　〃He　looks
  quite　hunted；　poor　young　man！　　I'm　afraid　there's　going　to　be
  fearful　trouble　there。　　Did　you　notice　how　quickly　he　ran　away　from
  us？　　He's　thin；　too；　if　it　wasn't　for　his　tan；　he'd　look　really
  ill。　　The　boy's　eyes　are　so　pathetic；　and　he　used　to　have　such　a
  nice　smile　in　them。〃
  The　Colonel；　who　was　fastening　her　hooks；　paused　in　an　operation
  that　required　concentration。
  〃It's　a　thousand　pities；〃　he　muttered；　〃that　he　hasn't　any　work　to
  do。　　That　puddling　about　with　clay　or　whatever　he　does　is　no　good
  at　all。〃　　And　slowly　fastening　one　hook；　he　unhooked　several
  others。
  Mrs。　Ercott　went　on：
  〃And　I　saw　Olive；　when　she　thought　I　wasn't　looking；　it　was　just　as
  if　she'd　taken　off　a　mask。　　But　Robert　Cramier　will　never　put　up
  with　it。　　He's　in　love　with　her　still；　I　watched　him。　　It's　tragic；
  John。〃
  The　Colonel　let　his　hands　fall　from　the　hooks。
  〃If　I　thought　that；〃　he　said；　〃I'd　do　something。〃
  〃If　you　could；　it　would　not　be　tragic。〃
  The　Colonel　stared。　　There　was　always　SOMETHING　to　be　done。
  〃You　read　too　many　novels；〃　he　said；　but　without　spirit。
  Mrs。　Ercott　smiled；　and　made　no　answer　to　an　aspersion　she　had
  heard　before。
  XI
  When　Lennan　reached　his　rooms　again　after　that　encounter　with　the
  Ercotts；　he　found　in　his　letterbox　a　visiting　card：　〃Mrs。　Doone〃
  〃Miss　Sylvia　Doone；〃　and　on　it　pencilled　the　words：　〃Do　come　and
  see　us　before　we　go　down　to　HayleSylvia。〃　　He　stared　blankly　at
  the　round　handwriting　he　knew　so　well。
  Sylvia！　　Nothing　perhaps　could　have　made　so　plain　to　him　how　in
  this　tornado　of　his　passion　the　world　was　drowned。　　Sylvia！　　He　had
  almost　forgotten　her　existence；　and　yet；　only　last　year；　after　he
  definitely　settled　down　in　London；　he　had　once　more　seen　a　good
  deal　of　her；　and　even　had　soft　thoughts　of　her　againwith　her
  pale…gold　hair；　her　true　look；　her　sweetness。　　Then　they　had　gone
  for　the　winter　to　Algiers　for　her　mother's　health。
  When　they　came　back；　he　had　already　avoided　seeing　her；　though　that
  was　before　Olive　went　to　Monte　Carlo；　before　he　had　even　admitted
  his　own　feeling。　　And　sincehe　had　not　once　thought　of　her。　　Not
  once！　　The　world　had　indeed　vanished。　　〃Do　come　and　see　us
  Sylvia。〃　　The　very　notion　was　an　irritation。　　No　rest　from　aching
  and　impatience　to　be　had　that　way。
  And　then　the　idea　came　to　him：　Why　not　kill　these　hours　of　waiting
  for　to…morrow's　meeting　by　going　on　the　river　passing　by　her
  cottage？　　There　was　still　one　train　that　he　could　catch。
  He　reached　the　village　after　dark；　and　spent　the　night　at　the　inn；
  got　up　early　next　morning；　took　a　boat；　and　pulled　down…