tsbridge. He was invited to dinner, but so was Mallinson, and the
latter had confidential talks with Mrs. Willoughby. He dined with some
friends at the Savoy and went on in a comfortable frame of mind to a
concert; there Mrs. Willoughby joined them, so did Mallinson, and the
couple sat side by side and conversed through a song. 'The height of bad
taste,' commented Fielding in an access of irritation. The fellow was
spoiling his comedy by relinquishing his part. He drew Mallinson aside as
they passed through the hall.

'You seem to see a good deal of Mrs. Willoughby?'

'Yes, we generally pair off together.'

Fielding dropped plump among the coarse sensations of the ordinary human.
He wanted to kick Mallinson, and to kick him hard. He saw with an
anticipatory satisfaction the glasses flying off the supercilious
gentleman's nose, and felt the jar at the end of his boot as it dashed
into the coat-tails. The action would have been too noticeable, however,
and he only said, 'What a very _bourgeois_ thing to do!'

Mallinson's air of complacency vanished as he heard the offensive term
levelled against himself. He did not, however, on that account change
his attitude towards Mrs. Willoughby. Fielding found him at the house a
few days later, and proceeded to sit him out. The contest drove Fielding
to the last pitch of exasperation, for, apart from the inherent
humiliation of the proceeding, Mrs. Willoughby was directly encouraging
Mallinson to stay.

Mallinson at last was suffered to leave, and Mrs. Willoughby, instead of
resuming her seat, walked across to the window and scrutinised intently
the passers-by.

'That creature visits you pretty often, it appears,' said Fielding.

'Does he?' she asked. 'He comes to me for the sake of consolation,
I suppose.'

'And makes love to you for the sake of contrast. He tells me you
generally pair off together when you meet. Pair off!' and he grimaced
the phrase to show how little he minded it. 'It'll be "keeping
company" next.'

Mrs. Willoughby gave a little quiet laugh. Her back was towards him, so
that he could not catch her expression, but she seemed to him culpably
indifferent to the complexion which Mallinson had given to their
friendship.

'It's rather funny,' she said, 'though I can't help feeling sorry for
him.'

'I saw that you were sorry for him,' Fielding interrupted.

'But he pretends,' Mrs. Willoughby went on, ignoring the interruption
with complete unconsciousnes