her softly through the grass； and； when he was a little way off；
thought it best to halt。 If he startled her she might run away；
and he would not have the heart to follow。 How still she was； lost
in her brooding！ He wished he could see her face。 He spoke at
last； gently：
〃Sylvia！ 。 。 。 Would you mind？〃
And； seeing that she did not move； he went up to her。 Surely she
could not still be angry with him！
〃Thanks most awfully for that book you gave meit looks splendid！〃
She made no answer。 And leaning his rod against the stone； he
sighed。 That silence of hers seemed to him unjust； what was it she
wanted him to say or do？ Life was not worth living； if it was to
be all bottled up like this。
〃I never meant to hurt you。 I hate hurting people。 It's only that
my beasts are so badI can't bear people to see themespecially
youI want to please youI do really。 So； you see； that was all。
You MIGHT forgive me； Sylvia！〃
Something over the wall； a rustling； a scattering in the fern
deer； no doubt！ And again he said eagerly； softly：
〃You might be nice to me； Sylvia； you really might。〃
Very quickly； turning her head away； she said：
〃It isn't that any more。 It'sit's something else。〃
〃What else？〃
〃Nothingonly； that I don't countnow〃
He knelt down beside her。 What did she mean？ But he knew well
enough。
〃Of course； you count！ Most awfully！ Oh； don't be unhappy！ I
hate people being unhappy。 Don't be unhappy； Sylvia！〃 And he
began gently to stroke her arm。 It was all strange and troubled
within him； one thing only plainhe must not admit anything！ As
if reading that thought； her blue eyes seemed suddenly to search
right into him。 Then she pulled some blades of grass； and began
plaiting them。
〃SHE counts。〃
Ah！ He was not going to say： She doesn't！ It would be caddish to
say that。 Even if she didn't countDid she still？it would be
mean and low。 And in his eyes just then there was the look that
had made his tutor compare him to a lion cub in trouble。
Sylvia was touching his arm。
〃Mark！〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Don't！〃
He got up and took his rod。 What was the use？ He could not stay
there with her； since he could notmust not speak。
〃Are you going？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Are you angry？ PLEASE don't be angry with me。〃
He felt a choke in his throat； bent down to her hand； and kissed
it； then shouldered his rod； and marched away。 Looking back once；
he saw her still sitting there； gazing after him； forlorn； by that
great stone。 It seemed to him； then； there was nowhere he could
go； nowhere except among the birds and beasts and trees； who did
not mind even if you were all mixed up and horrible inside。 He lay
down in the grass on the bank。 He could see the tiny trout moving
round and round the stones； swallows came all about him； flying
very low； a hornet； too； bore him company for a little。 But he
could take interest in nothing； it was as if his spirit were in
prison。 It would have been nice； indeed； to be that water； never
staying； passing； passing； or wind； touching everything； never
caught。 To be able to do nothing without hurting someonethat was
what was so ghastly。 If only one were like a flower； that just
sprang up and lived its life all to itself； and died。 But whatever
he did； or said now； would be like telling lies； or else being
cruel。 The only thing was to keep away from people。 And yet how
keep away from his own guests？
He went back to the house for lunch； but both those guests were
out； no one seemed quite to know where。 Restless； unhappy；
puzzled； he wandered round and about all the afternoon。 Just
before dinner he was told of Mrs。 Stormer's not being well； and
that they would be leaving to…morrow。 Goingafter three days！
That plunged him deeper into his strange and sorrowful confusion。
He was reduced now to a complete brooding silence。 He knew he was
attracting attention； but could not help it。 Several times during
dinner he caught Gordy's eyes fixed on him； from under those puffy
half…closed lids； with asphyxiated speculation。 But he simply
COULD not talkeverything that came into his mind to say seemed
false。 Ah！ it was a sad eveningwith its glimmering vision into
another's sore heart； its confused gnawing sense of things broken；
faith betrayed； and yet always the perplexed wonder〃How could I
have helped it？〃 And always Sylvia's wistful face that he tried
not to look at。
He stole out； leaving Gordy and his tutor still over their wine；
and roamed about the garden a long time； listening sadly to the
owls。 It was a blessing to get upstairs； though of course he would
not sleep。
But he did sleep； all through a night of many dreams； in the last
of which he was lying on a mountain side； Anna looking down into
his eyes； and bending her face to his。 He woke just as her lips
touched him。 Still under the spell of that troubling dream； he
became conscious of the sound of wheels and horses' hoofs on the
gravel； and sprang out of bed。 There was the waggonette moving
from the door； old Godden driving； luggage piled up beside him； and
the Stormers sitting opposite each other in the carriage。 Going
away like thathaving never even said good…bye！ For a moment he
felt as people must when they have unwittingly killed someone
utterly stunned and miserable。 Then he dashed into his clothes。
He would not let her go thus！ He wouldhe mustsee her again！
What had he done that she should go like this？ He rushed
downstairs。 The hall was empty； nineteen minutes to eight！ The
train left at eight o'clock。 Had he time to saddle Bolero？ He
rushed round to the stables； but the cob was out； being shoed。 He
wouldhe must get there in time。 It would show her anyway that he
was not quite a cad。 He walked till the drive curved； then began
running hard。 A quarter of a mile； and already he felt better； not
so miserable and guilty； it was something to feel you had a tough
job in hand； all your work cut outsomething to have to think of
economizing strength； picking out the best going； keeping out of
the sun； saving your wind uphill； flying down any slope。 It was
cool still； and the dew had laid the dust； there was no traffic and
scarcely anyone to look back and gape as he ran by。 What he would
do； if he got there in timehow explain this mad three…mile run
he did not think。 He passed a farm that he knew was just half…way。
He had left his watch。 Indeed； he had put on only his trousers；
shirt； and Norfolk jacket； no tie； no hat； not even socks under his
tennis shoes； and he was as hot as fire； with his hair flying back
a strange young creature indeed for anyone to meet。 But he had
lost now all feeling； save the will to get there。 A flock of sheep
came out of a field into the lane。 He pushed through them somehow；
but they lost him several seconds。 More than a mile still； and he
was blown； and his legs beginning to give！ Downhill indeed they
went of their own accord； but there was the long run…in； quite
level； and he could hear the train； now slowly puffing its way
along the valley。 Then； in spite of exhaustion； his spirit rose。
He would not go in looking like a scarecrow； utterly done； and make
a scene。 He must pull himself together at the end； and stroll in
as if he had come for fun。 But howseeing that at any moment he
felt he might fall flat in the dust； and stay there for ever！ And；
as he ran； he made little desperate efforts to mop his face； and
brush his clothes。 There were the gates； at lasttwo hundred
yards away。 The train； he could hear no longer。 It must be
standing in the station。 And a sob came from his overdriven lungs。
He heard the guard's whistle as he reached the gates。 Instead of
making for the booking…office； he ran along the paling； where an
entrance to the goods'…shed was open； and dashing through he fell
back against the honeysuckle。 The engine was just abreast of him；
he snatched at his sleeve and passed it over his face； to wipe the
sweat away。 Everything was blurred。 He must seesurely he had
not come in time just not to see！ He pushed his hands over his
forehead and hair； and spied up dizzily at the slowly passing
train。 She was there； at a window！ Standing； looking out！ He
dared not step forward； for fear of falling； but he put out his
hand She saw him。 Yes； she saw him！ Wasn't she going to make a
sign？ Not one？ And suddenly he saw her tear at her dress； pluck
something out； and throw it。 It fell close to his feet。 He did
not pick it uphe wanted to see her face till she was gone。 It
looked wonderfulvery proud； and pale。 She put her hand up to her
lips。 Then everything went blurred again and when he could see
once more； the train had vanished。 But at his feet was what she
had thrown。 He picked it up！ All dry and dark； it was the flower
she had given him in the Tyrol； and stolen back from his
buttonhole。
Creeping out； past the goods'…shed； he made his way to a field； and
lay down with his face pressed to that withered thing which still
had its scent。 。 。 。
The asphyxiated speculation in his guardian's eyes had not been
without significance。 Mark did not go back to Oxford。 He went
instead to Rometo live in his sister's house； and attend a school
of sculpture。 That was the beginning of a time when nothing
counted except his work。
To Anna he wrote twice； but received no answer。 From his tutor he
had one little note：
〃MY DEAR LENNAN；
〃So！ You abandon us for Art？ Ah！ wellit was your moon； if I
rememberone of them。 A worthy moona little dusty in these
daysa little in her declinebut to you no doubt a virgin
goddess； whose hem； etc。
〃We shall retain the friendliest memories of you in spite of your
defection。
〃Once your tutor and still your friend；
〃HAROLD STORMER。〃
After that vacation it was longvery long before he saw Sylvia
again。
PART II
SUMMER
I
Gleam of a thousand lights； clack and mutter of innumerable voices；
laughter； footsteps； hiss and rumble of passing trains taking
gamblers back to Nice or Mentone； fevered wailing from the violins
of four fiddlers with dark…white skins outside the cafe； and above；
around； beyond； the dark sky； and the dark moun