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…stream。
The bluffs of the opposite bank were wooded with high trees。 The
sun shone softly on their leaves； and the bright stream was ruffled
by a breeze that bent all the reeds and slowly swayed the water…
flowers。 One thin white line of wind streaked the blue sky。 He
shipped his sculls and drifted； listening to the wood…pigeons；
watching the swallows chasing。 If only she were here！ To spend
one long day thus； drifting with the stream！ To have but one such
rest from longing！ Her cottage； he knew； lay on the same side as
the village； and just beyond an island。 She had told him of a
hedge of yew…trees； and a white dovecote almost at the water's
edge。 He came to the island； and let his boat slide into the
backwater。 It was all overgrown with willow…trees and alders； dark
even in this early morning radiance； and marvellously still。 There
was no room to row； he took the boathook and tried to punt； but the
green water was too deep and entangled with great roots； so that he
had to make his way by clawing with the hook at branches。 Birds
seemed to shun this gloom； but a single magpie crossed the one
little clear patch of sky； and flew low behind the willows。 The
air here had a sweetish； earthy odour of too rank foliage； all
brightness seemed entombed。 He was glad to pass out again under a
huge poplar…tree into the fluttering gold and silver of the
morning。 And almost at once he saw the yew…hedge at the border of
some bright green turf； and a pigeon…house； high on its pole；
painted cream…white。 About it a number of ring…doves and snow…
white pigeons were perched or flying； and beyond the lawn he could
see the dark veranda of a low house； covered by wistaria just going
out of flower。 A drift of scent from late lilacs； and new…mown
grass； was borne out to him； together with the sound of a mowing…
machine； and the humming of many bees。 It was beautiful here； and
seemed； for all its restfulness； to have something of that flying
quality he so loved about her face； about the sweep of her hair；
the quick； soft turn of her eyesor was that but the darkness of
the yew…trees； the whiteness of the dovecote； and the doves
themselves； flying？
He lay there a long time quietly beneath the bank； careful not to
attract the attention of the old gardener； who was methodically
pushing his machine across and across the lawn。 How he wanted her
with him then！ Wonderful that there could be in life such beauty
and wild softness as made the heart ache with the delight of it；
and in that same life grey rules and rigid barrierscoffins of
happiness！ That doors should be closed on love and joy！ There was
not so much of it in the world！ She； who was the very spirit of
this flying； nymph…like summer； was untimely wintered…up in bleak
sorrow。 There was a hateful unwisdom in that thought； it seemed so
grim and violent； so corpse…like； gruesome； narrow and extravagant！
What possible end could it serve that she should be unhappy！ Even
if he had not loved her； he would have hated her fate just as much
all such stories of imprisoned lives had roused his anger even as
a boy。
Soft white cloudsthose bright angels of the river； never very
long awayhad begun now to spread their wings over the woods； and
the wind had dropped so that the slumbrous warmth and murmuring of
summer gathered full over the water。 The old gardener had finished
his job of mowing； and came with a little basket of grain to feed
the doves。 Lennan watched them going to him； the ring…doves； very
dainty； and capricious； keeping to themselves。 In place of that
old fellow； he was really seeing HER； feeding from her hands those
birds of Cypris。 What a group he could have made of her with them
perching and flying round her！ If she were his； what could he not
achieveto make her immortallike the old Greeks and Italians；
who； in their work； had rescued their mistresses from Time！ 。 。 。
He was back in his rooms in London two hours before he dared begin
expecting her。 Living alone there but for a caretaker who came
every morning for an hour or two； made dust； and departed； he had
no need for caution。 And when he had procured flowers； and the
fruits and cakes which they certainly would not eatwhen he had
arranged the tea…table； and made the grand tour at least twenty
times； he placed himself with a book at the little round window； to
watch for her approach。 There； very still； he sat； not reading a
word； continually moistening his dry lips and sighing； to relieve
the tension of his heart。 At last he saw her coming。 She was
walking close to the railings of the houses； looking neither to
right nor left。 She had on a lawn frock； and a hat of the palest
coffee…coloured straw； with a narrow black velvet ribbon。 She
crossed the side street； stopped for a second； gave a swift look
round； then came resolutely on。 What was it made him love her so？
What was the secret of her fascination？ Certainly； no conscious
enticements。 Never did anyone try less to fascinate。 He could not
recall one single li