,' he replied cheerfully; 'lots.'

Clarice professed not to understand his meaning. He proceeded to tick off
upon his ringers those particular instances in which he knew her to have
had a share, and mentioned the names of the gentlemen. He omitted
Drake's, however, and Clarice noticed the omission. For the rest she
listened quite patiently until he came to an end. Then she asked gravely,
'Do you think that is quite a nice way to talk to a married woman?'

'No,' he admitted frankly, 'I don't.' For a few minutes the
conversation lagged.

This was, however, Fielding's first visit since his home-coming, and
Clarice yielded to certain promptings of curiosity.

'I hardly expected you would be persuaded to go out to Africa, even
by--any one,' she concluded lamely.

'Neither did I,' he replied.

'Did you enjoy it?' she asked.

'I went out a Remus, I return a Romulus.'

There were points in Clarice's behaviour which never failed to excite
Fielding's admiration. Amongst these was a habit she possessed of staring
steadily into the speaker's face with all the appearance of complete
absence of mind whenever an allusion was made which she did not
understand, and then continuing the conversation as though the allusion
had never been made. 'Of course you had a companion,' she said.

Fielding agreed that he had.

'I have not seen him,' she added.

'No?'

'No.' Clarice was driven to name the companion. 'You seem to have struck
up a great friendship with Mr. Drake. I should hardly have thought that
you would have found much in common.'

'_Arcades ambo_, don't you know?'

Clarice did not know, and being by this time exasperated, she showed that
she did not. Fielding explained blandly, 'We both drive the same pigs to
the same market.'

Clarice laughed shortly, and stroked the cover of her _Morte d'Arthur_.
'I suppose that's just what friendship means nowadays?'

'Between man and man--yes. Between woman and woman it's different, and
it's, of course, different too between man and woman. But perhaps that's
best to be understood by means of its symbol,' and he worked up to his
climax of cold boiled mutton with complete satisfaction.

'I gather, then, that you see nothing of Mrs. Willoughby now,' said
Clarice quietly as soon as he had stopped. Fielding was for the moment
taken aback. It seemed to him that the point of view was unfair.
'Widows,' he replied with great sententiousness,--'widows are different,'
and he took his