eld
her, and then she turned her head towards him, subdued inquiry in her
eyes. For a moment only she looked--and then she said:

"Take your arm away, please."

The conviction that he ought not to make any sign of love to her broke
his sudden passion. He drew back ashamed, yet defiant, rebuked, yet
rebellious. It was like a challenge to her. A sarcastic smile crossed
her lips.

"What a creature of impulses you are, Carnac! When we were children the
day you saved Denzil years ago you flung your arms around me and kissed
me. I didn't understand anything then, and what's more I don't think
you did. You were a wilful, hazardous boy, and went your way taking the
flowers in the garden that didn't belong to you. Yet after all these
years, with an impulse behind which there is nothing--nothing at all,
you repeat that incident."

Suddenly passion seemed to possess her. "How dare you trifle with things
that mean so much! Have you learned nothing since I saw you last? Can
nothing teach you, Carnac? Can you not learn how to play the big part?
If you weren't grown up, do you know what I would do? I would slap the
face of an insolent, thoughtless, hopeless boy." Then her temper seemed
to pass. She caught up an apple again and thrust it into his hand. "Go
and eat that, Adam. Perhaps it'll make you wise like the old Adam. He
put his faults upon a woman."

"So do I," said Carnac. "So do I."

"That's what you would do, but you mustn't play that sort of game with a
good woman." She burst out laughing. "For a man you're a precious fool!
I don't think I want to see you again. You don't improve. You're full of
horrid impulses." Her indignation came back. "How dare you put your arm
around me!"

"It was the impulse of my heart. I can say no more; if I could I would.
There's something I should like to tell you, but I mustn't." He put the
apple down.

"About the other woman, I suppose," she said coldly, the hot indignation
gone from her lips.

He looked her steadfastly in the eyes. "If you won't trust me--if you
won't trust me--"

"I've always trusted you," she replied, "but I don't trust you now.
Don't you understand that a good girl hates conduct like yours?"

Suddenly with anger he turned upon her. "Yes, I understand everything,
but you don't understand. Why won't you believe that the reason I won't
tell you my trouble is that it's best you shouldn't know? You're a young
girl; you don't know life; you haven't seen it as I've se