igarette fell from his mouth almost singeing
his throat. Under his delicate tan the blood flushed up, and he laughed
till his blue eyes were blinded, his throat swollen almost to choking.
Then he sat up. Beatrice was putting in her comb.

"Tha tickled me, Beat," he said thickly.

Like a flash her small white hand went out and smacked his face. He
started up, glaring at her. They stared at each other. Slowly the flush
mounted her cheek, she dropped her eyes, then her head. He sat down
sulkily. She went into the scullery to adjust her hair. In private there
she shed a few tears, she did not know what for.

When she returned she was pursed up close. But it was only a film over
her fire. He, with ruffled hair, was sulking upon the sofa. She sat down
opposite, in the armchair, and neither spoke. The clock ticked in the
silence like blows.

"You are a little cat, Beat," he said at length, half apologetically.

"Well, you shouldn't be brazen," she replied.

There was again a long silence. He whistled to himself like a man much
agitated but defiant. Suddenly she went across to him and kissed him.

"Did it, pore fing!" she mocked.

He lifted his face, smiling curiously.

"Kiss?" he invited her.

"Daren't I?" she asked.

"Go on!" he challenged, his mouth lifted to her.

Deliberately, and with a peculiar quivering smile that seemed to
overspread her whole body, she put her mouth on his. Immediately his
arms folded round her. As soon as the long kiss was finished she drew
back her head from him, put her delicate fingers on his neck, through
the open collar. Then she closed her eyes, giving herself up again in a
kiss.

She acted of her own free will. What she would do she did, and made
nobody responsible.

Paul felt life changing around him. The conditions of youth were gone.
Now it was a home of grown-up people. Annie was a married woman, Arthur
was following his own pleasure in a way unknown to his folk. For so long
they had all lived at home, and gone out to pass their time. But now,
for Annie and Arthur, life lay outside their mother's house. They came
home for holiday and for rest. So there was that strange, half-empty
feeling about the house, as if the birds had flown. Paul became more and
more unsettled. Annie and Arthur had gone. He was restless to follow.
Yet home was for him beside his mother. And still there was something
else, something outside, something he wanted.

He grew more and more restless. M