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little　scent；　as　if　they　knew　that　the　season　was　already　over。　　A
few　blue…bloused　peasants　were　still　busy　among　them。　　And　suddenly
he　came　on　young　Lennan　himself；　sitting　on　a　stone　and　dabbing
away　with　his　fingers　at　a　lump　of　putty　stuff。　　The　Colonel
hesitated。　　Apart　from　obvious　reasons　for　discomfiture；　he　had
that　feeling　towards　Art　common　to　so　many　of　his　caste。　　It　was
not　work；　of　course；　but　it　was　very　clevera　mystery　to　him　how
anyone　could　do　it！　　On　seeing　him；　Lennan　had　risen；　dropping　his
handkerchief　over　what　he　was　modellingbut　not　before　the　Colonel
had　received　a　dim　impression　of　something　familiar。　　The　young　man
was　very　redthe　Colonel；　too；　was　conscious　suddenly　of　the　heat。
He　held　out　his　hand。

〃Nice　quiet　place　this；〃　he　stammered；　〃never　seen　it　before。　　I
called　at　your　hotel。〃

Now　that　he　had　his　chance；　he　was　completely　at　a　loss。　　The　sight
of　the　face　emerging　from　that　lump　of　'putty　stuff'　had　quite
unnerved　him。　　The　notion　of　this　young　man　working　at　it　up　here
all　by　himself；　just　because　he　was　away　an　hour　or　two　from　the
original；　touched　him。　　How　on　earth　to　say　what　he　had　come　to
say？　　It　was　altogether　different　from　what　he　had　thought。　　And　it
suddenly　flashed　through　himDolly　was　right！　　She's　always　right
hang　it！

〃You're　busy；〃　he　said；　〃I　mustn't　interrupt　you。〃

〃Not　at　all；　sir。　　It　was　awfully　good　of　you　to　look　me　up。〃

The　Colonel　stared。　　There　was　something　about　young　Lennan　that　he
had　not　noticed　before；　a　'Don't　take　liberties　with　me！'　look　that
made　things　difficult。　　But　still　he　lingered；　staring　wistfully　at
the　young　man；　who　stood　waiting　with　such　politeness。　　Then　a　safe
question　shot　into　his　mind：

〃Ah！　　And　when　do　you　go　back　to　England？　　We're　off　on　Tuesday。〃

While　he　spoke；　a　puff　of　wind　lifted　the　handkerchief　from　the
modelled　face。　　Would　the　young　fellow　put　it　back？　　He　did　not。
And　the　Colonel　thought：

〃It　would　have　been　bad　form。　　He　knew　I　wouldn't　take　advantage。
Yes！　　He's　a　gentleman！〃

Lifting　his　hand　to　the　salute；　he　said：　〃Well；　I　must　be　getting
back。　　See　you　at　dinner　perhaps？〃　　And　turning　on　his　heel　he
marched　away。

The　remembrance　of　that　face　in　the　'putty　stuff'　up　there　by　the
side　of　the　road　accompanied　him　home。　　It　was　badit　was　serious！
And　the　sense　that　he　counted　for　nothing　in　all　of　it　grew　and
grew　in　him。　　He　told　no　one　of　where　he　had　been。　。　。　。

When　the　Colonel　turned　with　ceremony　and　left　him；　Lennan　sat　down
again　on　the　flat　stone；　took　up　his　'putty　stuff；'　and　presently
effaced　that　image。　　He　sat　still　a　long　time；　to　all　appearance
watching　the　little　blue　butterflies　playing　round　the　red　and
tawny　roses。　　Then　his　fingers　began　to　work；　feverishly　shaping　a
head；　not　of　a　man；　not　of　a　beast；　but　a　sort　of　horned；　heavy
mingling　of　the　two。　　There　was　something　frenetic　in　the　movement
of　those　rather　short；　blunt…ended　fingers；　as　though　they　were
strangling　the　thing　they　were　creating。


VIII


In　those　days；　such　as　had　served　their　country　travelled；　as
befitted　Spartans；　in　ordinary　first…class　carriages；　and　woke　in
the　morning　at　La　Roche　or　some　strange…sounding　place；　for　paler
coffee　and　the　pale　brioche。　　So　it　was　with　Colonel　and　Mrs。
Ercott　and　their　niece；　accompanied　by　books　they　did　not　read；
viands　they　did　not　eat；　and　one　somnolent　Irishman　returning　from
the　East。　　In　the　disposition　of　legs　there　was　the　usual
difficulty；　no　one　quite　liking　to　put　them　up；　and　all　ultimately
doing　so；　save　Olive。　　More　than　once　during　that　night　the
Colonel；　lying　on　the　seat　opposite；　awoke　and　saw　her　sitting；
withdrawn　into　her　corner；　with　eyes　still　open。　　Staring　at　that
little　head　which　he　admired　so　much；　upright　and　unmoving；　in　its
dark　straw　toque　against　the　cushion；　he　would　become　suddenly
alert。　　Kicking　the　Irishman　slightly　in　the　effort；　he　would　slip
his　legs　down；　bend　across　to　her　in　the　darkness；　and；　conscious
of　a　faint　fragrance　as　of　violets；　whisper　huskily：　〃Anything　I
can　do　for　you；　my　dear？〃　　When　she　had　smiled　and　shaken　her　head；
he　would　retreat；　and　after　holding　his　breath　to　see　if　Dolly　were
asleep；　would　restore　his　feet；　slightly　kicking　the　Irishman。
After　one　such　expedition；　for　full　ten　minutes　he　remained　awake；
wondering　at　her　tireless　immobility。　　For　indeed　she　was　spending
this　night　entranced；　with　the　feeling　that　Lennan　was　beside　her；
holding　her　hand　in　his。　　She　seemed　actually　to　feel　the　touch　of
his　finger　against　the　tiny　patch　of　her　bare　palm　where　the　glove
opened。　　It　was　wonderful；　this　uncanny　communion　in　the　dark
rushing　nightshe　would　not　have　slept　for　worlds！　　Never　before
had　she　felt　so　close　to　him；　not　even　when　he　had　kissed　her　that
once　under　the　olives；　nor　even　when　at　the　concert　yesterday　his
arm　pressed　hers；　and　his　voice　whispered　words　she　heard　so
thirstily。　　And　that　golden　fortnight　passed　and　passed　through　her
on　an　endless　band　of　reminiscence。　　Its　memories　were　like
flowers；　such　scent　and　warmth　and　colour　in　them；　and　of　all；　none
perhaps　quite　so　poignant　as　the　memory　of　the　moment；　at　the　door
of　their　carriage；　when　he　said；　so　low　that　she　just　heard：　〃Good…
bye；　my　darling！〃

He　had　never　before　called　her　that。　　Not　even　his　touch　on　her
cheek　under　the　olives　equalled　the　simple　treasure　of　that　word。
And　above　the　roar　and　clatter　of　the　train；　and　the　snoring　of　the
Irishman；　it　kept　sounding　in　her　ears；　hour　after　dark　hour。　　It
was　perhaps　not　wonderful；　that　through　all　that　night　she　never
once　looked　the　future　in　the　facemade　no　plans；　took　no　stock　of
her　position；　just　yielded　to　memory；　and　to　the　half…dreamed
sensation　of　his　presence　close　beside　her。　　Whatever　might　come
afterwards；　she　was　his　this　night。　　Such　was　the　trance　that　gave
to　her　the　strange；　soft；　tireless　immobility　which　so　moved　her
Uncle　whenever　he　woke　up。

In　Paris　they　drove　from　station　to　station　in　a　vehicle　unfit　for
three'to　stretch　their　legs'as　the　Colonel　said。　　Since　he　saw
in　his　niece　no　signs　of　flagging；　no　regret；　his　spirits　were
rising；　and　he　confided　to　Mrs。　Ercott　in　the　buffet　at　the　Gare　du
Nord；　when　Olive　had　gone　to　wash；　that　he　did　not　think　there　was
much　in　it；　after　all；　looking　at　the　way　she'd　travelled。

But　Mrs。　Ercott　answered：

〃Haven't　you　ever　noticed　that　Olive　never　shows　what　she　does　not
want　to？　　She　has　not　got　those　eyes　for　nothing。〃

〃What　eyes？〃

〃Eyes　that　see　everything；　and　seem　to　see　nothing。〃

Conscious　that　something　was　hurting　her；　the　Colonel　tried　to　take
her　hand。

But　Mrs。　Ercott　rose　quickly；　and　went　where　he　could　not　follow。

Thus　suddenly　deserted；　the　Colonel　brooded；　drumming　on　the　little
table。　　What　now！　　Dolly　was　unjust！　　Poor　Dolly！　　He　was　as　fond
of　her　as　ever！　　Of　course！　　How　could　he　help　Olive's　being　young
and　pretty；　how　could　he　help　looking　after　her；　and　wanting　to
save　her　from　this　mess！　　Thus　he　sat　wondering；　dismayed　by　the
unreasonableness　of　women。　　It　did　not　enter　his　head　that　Mrs。
Ercott　had　been　almost　as　sleepless　as　his　niece；　watching　through
closed　eyes　every　one　of　those　little　expeditions　of　his；　and
saying　to　herself：　〃Ah！　　He　doesn't　care　how　I　travel！〃

She　returned　serene　enough；　concealing　her　'grief；'　and　soon　they
were　once　more　whirling　towards　England。

But　the　future　had　begun　to　lay　its　hand　on　Olive；　the　spell　of　the
past　was　already　losing　power；　the　sense　that　it　had　all　been　a
dream　grew　stronger　every　minute。　　In　a　few　hours　she　would　re…
enter　the　little　house　close　under　the　shadow　of　that　old　Wren
church；　which　reminded　her　somehow　of　childhood；　and　her　austere
father　with　his　chiselled　face。　　The　meeting　with　her　husband！　　How
go　through　that！　　And　to…night！　　But　she　did　not　care　to
contemplate　to…night。　　And　all　those　to…morrows　wherein　there　was
nothing　she　had　to　do　of　which　it　was　reasonable　to　complain；　yet
nothing　she　could　do　without　feeling　that　all　the　friendliness　and
zest　and　colour　was　out　of　life；　and　she　a　prisoner。　　Into　those
to…morrows　she　felt　she　would　slip　back；　out　of　her　dream；　lost；
with　hardly　perhaps　an　effort。　　To　get　away　to　the　house　on　the
river；　where　her　husband　came　only　at　weekends；　had　hitherto　been　a
refuge；　only　she　would　not　see　Mark　thereunless！　　Then；　with
the　thought　that　she　would；　must　still　see　him　sometimes；　all　again
grew　faintly　glamorous。　　If　only　she　did　see　him；　what　would　the
rest　matter？　　Never　again　as　it　had　before！

The　Colonel　was　reaching　down　her　handbag；　his　cheery：　〃Looks　as　if
it　would　be　rough！〃　aroused　her。　　Glad　to　be　alone；　and　tired
enough　now；　she　sought　the　ladies'　cabin；　and　slept　through　the
crossing；　till　the　voice　of　the　old　stewardess　awakened　her：
〃You've　had　a　nice　sleep。　　We're　alongside；　miss。〃　　Ah！　if　she　were
but　THAT　now！　　She　had　been　dreaming　that　she　was　sitting　in　a
flowery　field；　and　Lennan　had　drawn　her　up　by　the　hands；　with　the
words：　〃We're　here；　my　darling！〃

On　deck；　the　Colonel；　laden　with　bags；　was　looking　back　for　her；
and　trying　to　keep　a　space　between　him　and　his　wife。　　He　signalled
with　his　chin。