the project of persuading her to do something he felt she
oughtn't to do flooded him with a tingling pleasure.

He said, "But it's so pretty!" He could not imagine why he should have
said that, and yet he knew when he had said it that he had hit on an
argument that would weigh with her.

She sighed as who makes a concession. "Oh yes, it's pretty!" And then,
to his perplexity, her face fell into complete repose. She was absorbed
in the red beauty in his glass.

It angered him, yet he still felt bland and coaxing. "You'll have a
glass?"

"No, thank you."

"You'll surely have a taste?"

"Ah, no--"

"Just a drop...."

Their eyes met. He was peering into her face so that he could be sure
she was looking at him, and somehow the grimace seemed to be promising
her infinite pleasure.

She muttered, "Well, just a drop!" and found herself laughing unhappily.

He passed her his glass.

"But what," she asked in dismay, "will you drink from?"

Almost irritably he clicked his tongue, though he still smiled. "Drink
it up! Drink it up!"

She raised the glass to her lips and set her head back that the sin
might have swift progress, expecting the loveliest thing, like an ice,
but warm and very worldly; and informed with solemn pleasure too, for
such colours are spilt on marble floors when the sun sets behind
cathedral windows, such colours come into the mind when great music is
played or some deep voice speaks Shakespeare....

"Ach!" she screamed, and banged the glass down on the table. "It's
horrid! It draws the mouth!" She started up and stood rubbing her
knuckles into her cheeks and twisting her lips. She had never thought
wine was like this. It was not so much a drink as a blow in the mouth.
And yet somehow she felt ashamed of not liking it. "The matron at
school used to give us something for toothache that was as bad as
this!" she said peevishly, and tears stood in her eyes.

Mr. Philip stood up, laughing. The crisis of his pleasure in persuading
her to do the thing which she hadn't wanted to do was his joy that she
hadn't liked it when she had done it. And suddenly one of the walls of
the neat mental chamber in which he customarily stood fell in; by the
light that streamed in upon him he perceived that his ecstasy was only
just beginning. At last he knew what he wanted to do. With gusto he
marked that Ellen too was conscious that the incident was not at its
close, for she was still wringing her hands, though the