doesn't it?"

"Probably. In time."

"I knew you'd do it. I knew you'd do something big before you'd
finished."

"My dear, I've only just begun. But there's nothing big about it but the
research, and we were all in that. All looking for the same thing.
Happening to spot it is just heaven's own luck."

"But aren't you glad it was you?"

"It doesn't matter who it is. But I suppose I'm glad. It's the sort of
thing I wanted to do and it's rather more important than most things one
does."

He said no more. Years ago, when he had done nothing, he had talked
excitedly and arrogantly about his work; now that he had done what he
had set out to do he was reserved, impassive and very humble.

"Do Jerrold and Colin know?" she said.

"Not yet. You're the first."

"Dear Eliot, you _did_ know I'd be glad."

"It's nice of you to care."

Of course she cared. She was glad to think that he had that supreme
satisfaction to make up for the cruelty of her refusal to care more.
Perhaps, she thought, he wouldn't have had it if he had had her. He
would have been torn in two; he would have had to give himself twice
over. She felt that he didn't love her more than he loved his science,
and science exacted an uninterrupted and undivided service. One life
hadn't room enough for two such loves, and he might not have done so
much if she had been there, calling back his thoughts, drawing his
passion to herself.

"What are you going to do next?" she said.

"Next I'm going off for a month's holiday. To Sicily--Taormina. I've
been overworking and I'm a bit run down. How about Colin?"

"He's better. Heaps better. He soon got over that relapse he had when I
was away in February."

"You mean he got over it when you came back."

"Well, yes, it was when I came back. That's just what I don't like about
him, Eliot. He's getting dependent on me, and it's bad for him. I wish
he could go away somewhere for a change. A long change. Away from me,
away from the farm, away from Wyck, somewhere where he hasn't been
before. It might cure him, mightn't it?"

"Yes," he said. "Yes. It would be worth trying."

He didn't look at her. He knew what she was going to say. She said it.

"Eliot--do you think you could take him with you? Could you stand the
strain?"

"If you could stand it for four years I ought to be able to stand it for
a month."

"If he gets better it won't be a strain. He isn't a bit of trouble when
he's well. He's adorable. Only--