Chapter 12 - Page 2

face was, so blue her mouth! It was agony to him.
He felt as if someone were pushing a knife in his chest. Then she
was better again, and he forgot. But the anxiety remained inside him,
like a wound that did not close.

After leaving Miriam he went almost straight to Clara.
On the Monday following the day of the rupture he went down to
the work-room. She looked up at him and smiled. They had grown
very intimate unawares. She saw a new brightness about him.

"Well, Queen of Sheba!" he said, laughing.

"But why?" she asked.

"I think it suits you. You've got a new frock on."

She flushed, asking:

"And what of it?"

"Suits you--awfully! I could design you a dress."

"How would it be?"

He stood in front of her, his eyes glittering as he expounded.
He kept her eyes fixed with his. Then suddenly he took hold of her.
She half-started back. He drew the stuff of her blouse tighter,
smoothed it over her breast.

"More SO!" he explained.

But they were both of them flaming with blushes, and immediately
he ran away. He had touched her. His whole body was quivering
with the sensation.

There was already a sort of secret understanding between them.
The next evening he went to the cinematograph with her for a few
minutes before train-time. As they sat, he saw her hand lying
near him. For some moments he dared not touch it. The pictures
danced and dithered. Then he took her hand in his. It was large
and firm; it filled his grasp. He held it fast. She neither
moved nor made any sign. When they came out his train was due.
He hesitated.

"Good-night," she said. He darted away across the road.

The next day he came again, talking to her. She was rather
superior with him.

"Shall we go a walk on Monday?" he asked.

She turned her face aside.

"Shall you tell Miriam?" she replied sarcastically.

"I have broken off with her," he said.

"When?"

"Last Sunday."

"You quarrelled?"

"No! I had made up my mind. I told her quite definitely I
should consider myself free."

Clara did not answer, and he returned to his work. She was
so quiet and so superb!

On the Saturday evening he asked her to come and drink coffee
with him in a restaurant, meeting him after work was over. She came,
looking very reserved and very distant. He had three-quarters
of an hour to train-time.

"We will walk a little while," he said.

She agreed, and they went past the Castle into the Park.
He was afraid of her. She walked moodily at his side, with a kind
of resentful, reluctant, angry walk. He was afraid to take her hand.

"Which way shall we go?" he asked as they walked in