y, it's only a few months ago since you
pretended to be in love with me!"

He looked at her, and her eyes fell before his.

"I don't think there was ever much question of our being in love with one
another, was there? We simply seemed to have drifted together because we
were both miserable, and then, as the time passed on--well, you came to
be my only solace against the wretchedness of that life."

She nodded appreciatively. For a moment the sights and sounds of the
noisy restaurant passed from her consciousness.

"Do you remember how glad I was to see you? How we used to spend our
holidays out in those dingy fields and hope and pray for better things
some day? But it was all so hopeless, wasn't it! You could barely keep
yourself from starving, and I--oh, the misery of that awful Detton Magna
and teaching those wretched children! There never were such children in
the world. I couldn't get their mothers to send them clean. They seemed
to have inherited all the vice, the bad language, the ugly sordidness
with which the place reeked. They were old men and women in wickedness
before they passed their first standard. It's a corner of the world I
never want to see again. I'd rather find hell! Have you ordered any wine,
Philip? I want to forget."

He pointed to the bottle which stood in the pail by their side, and
summoned a waiter. She watched it being opened and their glasses filled.

"This is like one of our fairy stories of the old days, isn't it?" she
said. "Well, I drink to you, Philip. Here's success to our new lives!"

She raised her glass and drained it. A woman had entered who reminded him
of Elizabeth, and his eyes had wandered away for a moment as Beatrice
pledged him. She called him back a little impatiently.

"Don't sit there as though you were looking at ghosts, Philip! Try and
remember who I am and what we used to mean to one another. Let us try
and believe," she added, a little wistfully, "that one of those dreams of
ours which we used to set floating like bubbles, has come true. We can
wipe out all the memories we don't want. That ought to be easy."

"Ought it?" he answered grimly. "There are times when I've found it
difficult enough."

She laughed and looked about her. He realised suddenly that she was still
very attractive with her rather insolent mouth, her clear eyes, her silky
hair with the little fringe. People, as they passed, paid her some
attention, and she was frankly curious about everybo