he tired eyes and the firm chin leaned forward in his
seat, with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin supported in the
hollow of his hands. The firelight showed the delicate network of lines
round eyes and mouth, the modelling of the long curved lips.

"I--want--Love!" he said quietly, and a stir of amazement passed round
the circle of listeners. He looked round and smiled, a slow, amused
smile. "Surprised, aren't you? Didn't expect that from me; but it
isn't as simple as it sounds. I'm not thinking of Frank's `nice' wife,
and a house in the suburbs, the usual midsummer madness followed by
settling down to live--stodgily!--ever after. I'm speaking of something
big, primal, overwhelming; something that _lasts_. Love comes to most
men in the course of their lives, a modicum of love. The dullest dog
has his day, a day uplifted, glorified, when he walks like a god.
Afterwards he looks back upon it from his padded arm-chair, and smiles--
a smug smile. It was a moment of madness; now he is sane, that's _his_
point of view; but mine happens to be precisely the opposite! To me
those moments are life, the only life worth living. The rest is a
sleep. If I could have what I wish, I'd choose to love, to _be_ loved,
like the great masters in the art, the lovers _par excellence_ of the
ages. I'd be willing, if needs be, to sacrifice everything else, and
count the world well lost. It would be a love not only of the senses,
but of the mind, of the soul, and so it would live on, undimmed by the
passing of youth. That is my dream, you understand! As regards
expectation, I don't share Mrs Ingram's optimism. It's not only myself
who is involved, you see. It is another person, and my desires are so
absurdly in excess of my deserts. Who am I that I should expect the
extraordinary?"

He ceased, and again the silence fell. The girl in blue bit hard on her
under lip and shrank back into the shadow; the girl who had wished for
adventure drew a quick gasp of excitement; the woman who had lived, and
gained her desire, drew a quivering sigh. Silent, immovable, in the
shadow of the settle, sat the girl in white.

"Oh, dear!" cried Claudia suddenly. "If he _only_ had money! I'd adore
beyond all things to be worshipped on a pedestal! Rupert, if an old
aunt dies, and leaves you her millions,--would I do?"

That was the best of Claudia, her prattle bridged so many awkward gaps!
In an instant the tension had eased, and