e of the world, so that everyone who denied his Tiger
added to his world's muddle and confusion, and at last there would come
an inevitable crisis when war would spring up between those who had
grappled with their Tiger and those who had not.

"One knows one's own Tiger--absolutely of oneself one knows it and has,
of oneself, the choice whether to grapple or not--at least that's what I
gathered he meant--I know it struck me at the time."

"Oh," she said, with a sigh that quivered through her whole body. "It's
so _easy_ to talk.... But it's true what he says. I know it."

At last Christopher got up to go. He did not know whether he had done
any good; he felt that he was a miserable failure, and he had a
foreboding that one day he would be ashamed indeed that he had not
helped her.

"Do something," a voice seemed to tell him. "You'll regret ... all your
life you'll regret."

He turned and held again her hands in his.... "Rachel--dear--tell
me----"

Her hands were chill and lifeless. Her voice caught. "Oh! Dr. Chris!..."
Then she suddenly stepped back from him--

"_It's_ all right.... I'm all right. Come again soon, Dr. Chris
dear--come soon."

He left her and found his way into the hot, breathless street.

After he had gone Rachel sat, staring beyond the room out on to the
white walls of the houses and the green branches of the trees in the
square.

Roddy came in.

All the afternoon he had been thinking about her; at one moment he was
furious with the discomfort that life was now becoming to him, at
another moment he was imagining little plans that would sweep all the
discomfort away.

All this spring they had been miserable together. Now was beginning a
time that was always jolly in London and yet he could not enjoy a moment
of it. Did she dislike him instead of liking him, or did he like her
instead of loving her, it would all be so easy--just the same as any
other couple.

Ever since that silly Nita incident there had been this restraint, and
yet how could that be the cause?

Rachel had made nothing of it; it was because it had meant so little to
her that he had chafed so at the remembrance of it.

She was fond of him--he knew that--she was miserably unhappy.

He loved her--and he was miserably unhappy.

Damn this weather.

He looked at her, wondered what would happen did he cross over and
suddenly kiss her, knew that he would see her struggle to be kind, to
give him what he wanted, knew that t