loated downward on to the carpet a thin
powdery stream, at sight of which the blood mounted in his face.
Moistening one finger, he bent and applied the tip to the scattered
grains, then lifted it to his lips. Salt! There was no mistaking the
sharp clean savour, and on a corner of the paper he beheld the rough
amateur drawing of a knife.

The Brethren had sent him a reminder that they were still waiting for
their revenge!

That year Whitsuntide fell in a spell of warm and settled weather, and
a more charming retreat than the Gordons' week-end cottage it would be
difficult to find. The house was a type of simple comfort, the garden
a delicious riot of colour and fragrance. None of the Gordons knew
anything about the science of gardening, but they considered it "fun"
to attend to their own garden, sent wholesale orders to advertising
seedsmen, and begged shamelessly from gardening friends. The friends
responded with sacks of mysterious-looking roots which the Gordons
proceeded to plump indiscriminately into the first vacant space which
came handy. Everything flourished, for the soil was new and rich, and
the sun blazed upon it from morning till night; and the result was as
delightful as it was unorthodox.

After a day spent in the cottage, Lessing began to feel that the
happenings of the last weeks must surely be the creation of his own
brain. The mental atmosphere by which he was surrounded was so kindly
and wholesome, so pre-eminently _sane_, that, in contrast, the wild
deeds of the Brethren seemed more the vagaries of a dream than cold
actual fact. Most thankfully he accepted the peaceful breathing
space, and for the first time since the incident of the spilling of
the salt went about his way free from apprehension. It seemed to him
in the last degree unlikely that the Brethren would choose a time when
he was in close contact with friends for the execution of their
revenge.

Lessing had made a compact with himself that under no circumstances
would he speak of love to Delia Gordon. He knew now that he had loved
her for years, he realised that under his present circumstances it
would be a despicable act to seek to bind her in any way, but, with
the extraordinary logic practised by men in affairs of the heart, he
believed that so long as he refrained from an actual declaration he
was acting as an honourable man. It did not occur to him