shallow　stairs　to　her　room；　she　would　sit　down　at　the　window　to
  write　to　Lennan；　one　candle　beside　herone　pale　flame　for　comrade；
  as　it　might　be　his　spirit。　　Every　evening　she　poured　out　to　him　her
  thoughts；　and　ended　always：　〃Have　patience！〃　　She　was　still　waiting
  for　courage　to　pass　that　dark　hedge　of　impalpable　doubts　and　fears
  and　scruples；　of　a　dread　that　she　could　not　make　articulate　even　to
  herself。　　Having　finished；　she　would　lean　out　into　the　night。　　The
  Colonel；　his　black　figure　cloaked　against　the　dew；　would　be　pacing
  up　and　down　the　lawn；　with　his　good…night　cigar；　whose　fiery　spark
  she　could　just　discern；　and；　beyond；　her　ghostly　dove…house；　and；
  beyond；　the　riverflowing。　　Then　she　would　clasp　herself　close
  afraid　to　stretch　out　her　arms；　lest　she　should　be　seen。
  Each　morning　she　rose　early；　dressed；　and　slipped　away　to　the
  village　to　post　her　letter。　　From　the　woods　across　the　river　wild
  pigeons　would　be　callingas　though　Love　itself　pleaded　with　her
  afresh　each　day。　　She　was　back　well　before　breakfast；　to　go　up　to
  her　room　and　come　down　again　as　if　for　the　first　time。　　The
  Colonel；　meeting　her　on　the　stairs；　or　in　the　hall；　would　say：　〃Ah；
  my　dear！　just　beaten　you！　　Slept　well？〃　　And；　while　her　lips
  touched　his　cheek；　slanted　at　the　proper　angle　for　uncles；　he　never
  dreamed　that　she　had　been　three　miles　already　through　the　dew。
  Now　that　she　was　in　the　throes　of　an　indecision；　whose　ending；　one
  way　or　the　other；　must　be　so　tremendous；　now　that　she　was　in　the
  very　swirl；　she　let　no　sign　at　all　escape　her；　the　Colonel　and　even
  his　wife　were　deceived　into　thinking　that　after　all　no　great　harm
  had　been　done。　　It　was　grateful　to　them　to　think　so；　because　of
  that　stewardship　at　Monte　Carlo；　of　which　they　could　not　render　too
  good　account。　　The　warm　sleepy　days；　with　a　little　croquet　and　a
  little　paddling　on　the　river；　and　much　sitting　out　of　doors；　when
  the　Colonel　would　read　aloud　from　Tennyson；　were　very　pleasant。　　To
  himif　not　to　Mrs。　Ercottit　was　especially　jolly　to　be　out　of
  Town　'this　confounded　crowded　time　of　year。'　　And　so　the　days　of
  early　June　went　by；　each　finer　than　the　last。
  And　then　Cramier　came　down；　without　warning　on　a　Friday　evening。
  It　was　hot　in　London　。　。　。　the　session　dull。　。　。　。　　The　Jubilee
  turning　everything　upside　down。　。　。　。　　They　were　lucky　to　be　out　of
  Town！
  A　silent　dinnerthat！
  Mrs。　Ercott　noticed　that　he　drank　wine　like　water；　and　for　minutes
  at　a　time　fixed　his　eyes；　that　looked　heavy　as　if　he　had　not　been
  sleeping；　not　on　his　wife's　face　but　on　her　neck。　　If　Olive　really
  disliked　and　feared　himas　John　would　have　itshe　disguised　her
  feelings　very　well！　　For　so　pale　a　woman　she　was　looking　brilliant
  that　night。　　The　sun　had　caught　her　cheeks；　perhaps。　　That　black
  low…cut　frock　suited　her；　with　old　Milanese…point　lace　matching　her
  skin　so　well；　and　one　carnation；　of　darkest　red；　at　her　breast。
  Her　eyes　were　really　sometimes　like　black　velvet。　　It　suited　pale
  women　to　have　those　eyes；　that　looked　so　black　at　night！　　She　was
  talking；　too；　and　laughing　more　than　usual。　　One　would　have　said：　A
  wife　delighted　to　welcome　her　husband！　　And　yet　there　was
  somethingsomething　in　the　air；　in　the　feel　of　thingsthe
  lowering　fixity　of　that　man's　eyes；　orthunder　coming；　after　all
  this　heat！　　Surely　the　night　was　unnaturally　still　and　dark；　hardly
  a　breath　of　air；　and　so　many　moths　out　there；　passing　the　beam　of
  light；　like　little　pale　spirits　crossing　a　river！　　Mrs。　Ercott
  smiled；　pleased　at　that　image。　　Moths！　　Men　were　like　moths；　there
  were　women　from　whom　they　could　not　keep　away。　　Yes；　there　was
  something　about　Olive　that　drew　men　to　her。　　Not　meretriciousto
  do　her　justice；　not　that　at　all；　but　something　soft；　and…fatal；
  like　one　of　these　candle…flames　to　the　poor　moths。　　John's　eyes
  were　never　quite　as　she　knew　them　when　he　was　looking　at　Olive；　and
  Robert　Cramier'swhat　a　queer；　drugged　look　they　had！　　As　for　that
  other　poor　young　fellowshe　had　never　forgotten　his　face　when　they
  came　on　him　in　the　Park！
  And　when　after　dinner　they　sat　on　the　veranda；　they　were　all　more
  silent　still；　just　watching；　it　seemed；　the　smoke　of　their
  cigarettes；　rising　quite　straight；　as　though　wind　had　been
  withdrawn　from　the　world。　　The　Colonel　twice　endeavoured　to　speak
  about　the　moon：　It　ought　to　be　up　by　now！　　It　was　going　to　be　full。
  And　then　Cramier　said：　〃Put　on　that　scarf　thing；　Olive；　and　come
  round　the　garden　with　me。〃
  Mrs。　Ercott　admitted　to　herself　now　that　what　John　said　was　true。
  Just　one　gleam　of　eyes；　turned　quickly　this　way　and　that；　as　a　bird
  looks　for　escape；　and　then　Olive　had　got　up　and　quietly　gone　with
  him　down　the　path；　till　their　silent　figures　were　lost　to　sight。
  Disturbed　to　the　heart；　Mrs。　Ercott　rose　and　went　over　to　her
  husband's　chair。　　He　was　frowning；　and　staring　at　his　evening　shoe
  balanced　on　a　single　toe。　　He　looked　up　at　her　and　put　out　his
  hand。　　Mrs。　Ercott　gave　it　a　squeeze；　she　wanted　comfort。
  The　Colonel　spoke：
  〃It's　heavy　to…night；　Dolly。　　I　don't　like　the　feel　of　it。〃
  XVII
  They　had　passed　without　a　single　word　spoken；　down　through　the
  laurels　and　guelder　roses　to　the　river　bank；　then　he　had　turned　to
  the　right；　and　gone　along　it　under　the　dove…house；　to　the　yew…
  trees。　　There　he　had　stopped；　in　the　pitch　darkness　of　that
  foliage。　　It　seemed　to　her　dreadfully　still；　if　only　there　had　been
  the　faintest　breeze；　the　faintest　lisping　of　reeds　on　the　water；
  one　bird　to　make　a　sound；　but　nothing；　nothing　save　his　breathing；
  deep；　irregular；　with　a　quiver　in　it。　　What　had　he　brought　her　here
  for？　　To　show　her　how　utterly　she　was　his？　　Was　he　never　going　to
  speak；　never　going　to　say　whatever　it　was　he　had　in　mind　to　say？
  If　only　he　would　not　touch　her！
  Then　he　moved；　and　a　stone　dislodged　fell　with　a　splash　into　the
  water。　　She　could　not　help　a　little　gasp。　　How　black　the　river
  looked！　　But　slowly；　beyond　the　dim　shape　of　the　giant　poplar；　a
  shiver　of　light　stole　outwards　across　the　blackness　from　the　far
  bankthe　moon；　whose　rim　she　could　now　see　rising；　of　a　thick　gold
  like　a　coin；　above　the　woods。　　Her　heart　went　out　to　that　warm
  light。　　At　all　events　there　was　one　friendly　inhabitant　of　this
  darkness。
  Suddenly　she　felt　his　hands　on　her　waist。　　She　did　not　move；　her
  heart　beat　too　furiously；　but　a　sort　of　prayer　fluttered　up　from　it
  against　her　lips。　　In　the　grip　of　those　heavy　hands　was　such
  quivering　force！
  His　voice　sounded　very　husky　and　strange：　〃Olive；　this　can't　go　on。
  I　suffer。　　My　God！　　I　suffer！〃
  A　pang　went　through　her；　a　sort　of　surprise。　　Suffer！　　She　might
  wish　him　dead；　but　she　did　not　want　him　to　sufferGod　knew！　　And
  yet；　gripped　by　those　hands；　she　could　not　say：　I　am　sorry！
  He　made　a　sound　that　was　almost　a　groan；　and　dropped　on　his　knees。
  Feeling　herself　held　fast；　she　tried　to　push　his　forehead　back　from
  her　waist。　　It　was　fiery　hot；　and　she　heard　him　mutter：　〃Have
  mercy！　　Love　me　a　little！〃　　But　the　clutch　of　his　hands；　never
  still　on　the　thin　silk　of　her　dress；　turned　her　faint。　　She　tried
  to　writhe　away；　but　could　not；　stood　still　again；　and　at　last　found
  her　voice。
  〃Mercy？　　Can　I　MAKE　myself　love？　　No　one　ever　could　since　the　world
  began。　　Please；　please　get　up。　　Let　me　go！〃
  But　he　was　pulling　her　down　to　him　so　that　she　was　forced　on　to　her
  knees　on　the　grass；　with　her　face　close　to　his。　　A　low　moaning　was
  coming　from　him。　　It　was　horribleso　horrible！　　And　he　went　on
  pleading；　the　words　all　confused；　not　looking　in　her　face。　　It
  seemed　to　her　that　it　would　never　end；　that　she　would　never　get
  free　of　that　grip；　away　from　that　stammering；　whispering　voice。
  She　stayed　by　instinct　utterly　still；　closing　her　eyes。　　Then　she
  felt　his　gaze　for　the　first　time　that　evening　on　her　face；　and
  realized　that　he　had　not　dared　to　look　until　her　eyes　were　closed；
  for　fear　of　reading　what　was　in　them。　　She　said　very　gently：
  〃Please　let　me　go。　　I　think　I'm　going　to　faint。〃
  He　relaxed　the　grip　of　his　arms；　she　sank　down　and　stayed　unmoving
  on　the　grass。　　After　such　utter　stillness　that　she　hardly　knew
  whether　he　were　there　or　not；　she　felt　his　hot　hand　on　her　bare
  shoulder。　　Was　it　all　to　begin　again？　　She　shrank　down　lower　still；
  and　a　little　moan　escaped　her。　　He　let　her　go　suddenly；　and；　when
  at　last　she　looked　up；　was　gone。
  She　got　to　her　feet　trembling；　and　moved　quickly　from　under　the
  yew…trees。　　She　tried　to　thinktried　to　understand　exactly　what
  this　portended　for　her；　for　him；　for　her　lover。　　But　she　could　not。
  There　was　around　her　thoughts　the　same　breathless　darkness　that
  brooded　over　this　night。　　Ah！　but　to　the　night　had　been　given　that
  pale…gold　moon…ray；　to　herself　nothing；　no　faintest　gleam；　as　well
  try　to　pierce　below　the　dark　surface　of　that　water！
  She　passed　her　hands　over　her　face；　and　hair；　and　dress。　　How　long
  had　it　lasted？　　How　long　had　they　been　out　here？　　And　she　began
  slowly　moving　back　towards　the　house。　　Thank　God！　　She　had　not
  yielded　to　fear　or　pity；　not　uttered　falsities；　not　pretended　she
  could　love　him；　and　betrayed　her　heart。　　That　would　have　been　the
  one　unbearable　thing　to　have　been　left　remembering！　　She　stood　long
  looking　down；　as　if　trying　to　see　the　future　i