a, irrepressibly annoyed, groped her way
through a disorder of furniture, which seemed, as furniture
always does in the dark, to be out of place and malevolently full
of corners, and without asking leave flung down a shutter and
flung up a window. In a field across the river they were cutting
hay, and the dry summer smell of it breathed in, and with it the
long rolling whirr of a haymaking machine and its periodical
clash, most familiar of summer noises. And the June daylight lit
up the gaunt body of Bernard Clowes stretched out on a water
mattress, his silk jacket unbuttoned over his strong, haggard
throat. "Really, Berns," said Laura, flinging down a second
shutter, "I don't wonder you sleep badly. The room is positively
stuffy! I should have a racking headache if I slept in it."

"Well, you don't, you see," Bernard replied politely. "Stop
pulling those blinds about. Come over here." Laura came to him.
"Kiss me," said Clowes, and she laid her cool lips on his cheek.
Clowes received her kiss passively: even Laura, though she
understood him pretty well, never was sure whether he made her
kiss him because he liked it or because he thought she did not
like it.

"Where are you off to now?" asked Clowes, pushing her away: "you
look very smart. I like that cotton dress. It is cotton, isn't
it?" he rubbed the fabric gingerly between his finger and thumb.
"Did Catherine make it? That girl is a jewel. I like that gipsy
hat too, it's a pretty shape and it shades your eyes. I call
that sensible, which can't often be said for a woman's clothes.
You have good eyes, Laura, well worth shading, though your figure
is your trump card. I like these fitting bodices that give a
woman a chance to show what shape she is. All you Selincourt
women score in evening gowns. Yvonne has a topping figure,
though she's an ugly little devil. She has an American
complexion and her eyes aren't as good as yours. Where did you
say you were going?"

"To the station to meet Lawrence. I promised to fetch him in the
car."

"Lawrence? So he's due today, is he? I'd forgotten all about
him. And you're meeting him? Oh yes, that explains the dress
and hat, I thought you wouldn't have put them on for my
benefit."

"Dear, it's only one of the cotton frocks I wear every day, and I
couldn't go driving without a hat, could I?"

"Can't conceive why you want to go at all." Laura was silent.
"If Lawrence must be met, why can't Miller go al