r, saving
with a pretty movement of her shoulders the dress that was slipping from
them, he saw himself dancing with her.... They passed in front of a
mirror, and looking straight over her shoulder his eyes followed the
tremulous sparkle of the diamond wings which she wore in her hair. Then,
yielding to an impulse of which he was not ashamed, for it was as much
affection as it was sensual, he drew over a chair--he would have knelt
at her feet had it not been for his gout--and passing his arm about her
waist, he said--

"Dearest, I'm very fond of you, you know that. It is not my fault if I
prefer to be your lover rather than your husband." He kissed her on her
shoulders, laying his cheek on her bosom. "Don't you believe that I am
fond of you, Evelyn?"

"Yes, Owen, I think you are."

"Not a very enthusiastic reply. It used to be you who delighted to throw
your arms about my neck. But all that is over and done with."

"One is not always in such humours, Owen."

Watching each other's eyes they were conscious of their souls; every
moment it seemed as if their souls must float up and be discovered; and,
while fearing discovery, there came a yearning to stand out of all
shadow in the full light. But they could not tell their souls; words
fell back abortive; and they recognised the mortal lot of alienation;
and rebelling against it, he held her face, he sought her lips, but she
turned her face aside, leaving him her cheek.

"Why do you turn your lips away? It is a long time since I've kissed you
... you're cold and indifferent lately, Evelyn."

A memory of Ulick shot through her mind, and he would have divined her
thought if his perception had not been blinded by the passion which
swayed him.

"No, Owen, no. We're an engaged couple; we're no longer lovers."

"And you think that we should begin by respecting the marriage
ceremony?"

She seemed to lose sight of him, she perceived only the general idea,
that outline of her life which he represented, and which she could in a
way trace in the furniture of the room. It was in this room she had said
she would be his mistress. It was from this room she had started for
Paris. Her eyes lighted on the harpsichord. He had bought it in some
vague intention of presenting it to her father, some day when they were
reconciled; the viola da gamba he had bought for her sake; it was the
poor little excuse he had devised for coming to see her at Dulwich.

She saw the Gainsborough: how