She saw Ronnie’s face, all pleased and lighted up as she had seen it when she got to the hospital. The pleased look wasn’t for her. She had a bare half-minute of thinking it was, and then he was telling her about Nurse Blackwell being transferred to Brighton, to the home he was going to. Nurse Blackwell was the pretty girl who laughed. She always looked as fresh as if she hadn’t anything to do except look like that. Ronnie said, “Isn’t it marvellous?” Ellie said, “Marvellous- ” Her voice sounded like a tired echo. She felt like that, too- just an echo fading out. Something cold touched her heart.

Julia struck a chord or two and began to sing. She had what Antony had once called a voice of cream and honey-sweet and rich without being very large. Contraltos are apt to be ponderous. Julia’s voice flowed easily in the old, country songs which Jimmy demanded-“Barbara Allen”-“The Bailiff’s Daughter.” Lois’ drawled “Rather infant school, don’t you think?” was taken no notice of.

Jimmy was asking for “the jolly tune you used to sing- the one with all the animals. You know-we used to call it the ‘Zoo.’ ”

Julia’s laugh rang out quite naturally.

“ ‘Love will find out the way’? All right.”

She began a spirited prelude, and sang to an old and charming tune:

Over the mountains,

And under the waves;

Under the fountains,

And under the graves;

Under floods that are deepest;

Which Neptune obey;

Over rocks that are steepest,

Love will find out the way.

Some think to lose him,

By having him confined;

And some do suppose him,

Poor thing, to be blind;

But if ne’er so close ye wall him,

Do the best that you may,

Blind love, if so ye call him,

Will find out the way.

You may train the eagle

To stoop to your fist;

Or you may inveigle

The phoenix of the east;

The lioness, ye may move her

To give o’er her prey;

But you’ll ne’er stop a lover:

He will find out his way.

On the last word Lois stood up, throwing her cigarette-end out of the window. Her voice cut clearly across Julia’s closing chords.

“Well, we’re going to leave you to wallow in folk song. It isn’t my line. Antony and I are going into the garden.”

This was one of the times he thought about afterwards. If he had stayed where he was, imitating her frankness with a cool and quite truthful declaration that he liked the old songs and liked to hear Julia sing them, would it have made any difference? Lois would probably have stayed too, fidgeting with the things from the bag she always carried-cigarette case, lighter, compact; talking without taking the trouble to lower her voice; rasping Jimmy’s temper. It really seemed better to go off with her into the garden, leaving Julia to minister to Jimmy’s mood.

He stepped out over the low sill and gave Lois his hand. The swish of her dress knocked her coffee cup over. It fell and rolled, but did not break.

Minnie came out of her corner to retrieve it. She stood looking at it for a moment before she set it down with its saucer upon the tray.

“It’s not broken,” she said-“just the tiniest chip by the handle. Marcia was so fond of these cups, and there aren’t a great many of them left. I’m glad it isn’t broken.”

She spoke as if she were talking to herself-as if she were alone in the room, or alone in that dream of hers. Then she picked up the tray and went away.

In the garden, Antony laid himself out to entertain his hostess. That, at least, was the part he had cast himself for, the entertaining guest. Unfortunately, it takes two to play a scene. Lois had her own idea of the scene she meant to play. A fine sunny evening; still, warm air; a bird or two calling; a glow of colour from the autumn border-these were the setting. And for characters, what could be more promising than a pretty woman who is bored, and the man who used to ask nothing better than to make love to her?

She began to show him that it would not be disagreeable to her if he were to do it again. If that had been all, it would not have been too bad. Antony could hold his own in a verbal cut-and-thrust. But with every passing moment he was made aware of something underneath the play. Some current, dangerously alive-ready to give off sparks.

He began to wish very heartily that he had remained in the bosom of the family. And then quite suddenly she changed her tone. The lightness went out of it. She said in a voice which sounded perfectly human and sincere,

“ Antony, I’m bored to death.”

Relief brought a smile to his lips.

“What do I say?-‘Thank you for the compliment.’ ”

It was her turn to frown.

“I can’t live here. I was a fool to try.”

He said, “Why you’re only just beginning. A week or two ago you were full of all the things you were going to do.”

She said in a curiously sombre manner,

“The bottom’s dropped out of it. I can’t live in the country. I shall take a flat in town.”

“I don’t think you’ll get Jimmy to live in town.”

“I could if I tried, but-I don’t intend to try.”

He gave her a keen glance. This was a Lois he did not know. Her face seemed to have grown heavier. Her eyes looked past him with something fixed in their expression, pupils narrowing against the light. He said casually,

“And what do you mean by that? Or do you mean anything at all?”

She said in a low, obstinate tone,

“Yes, I mean something. I think you know what I mean.”

“I hope I don’t.”

“It’s no good hoping. I’m not going on like this.”

He kept the casual note.

“Because you and Jimmy have had a row?”

She said, “No,” left time for that to sink in, and then went on with a warm change of expression, manner, everything. “ Antony, don’t you see that I can’t go on?”

“Frankly, I don’t.”

“Don’t you? Then try! Antony, won’t you just try? I was a fool two years ago. There-I’ve said it! If I’d known that those Doubleday relations would settle out of court… I can’t do without money, you know-it’s no use pretending that I can. I’ve always been quite honest about that, haven’t I?”

“Perfectly.”

“I can’t do without money, and I can’t do without people. I’ve got to get back to town.”

He said quite seriously,

“Lois, I think you’re being stupid. What have you been making all these changes for if you’re not going to be here? You’re clearing the house, you’ve got a new staff coming in. You’re planning to entertain-to have people down here. Jimmy won’t stop you-he likes having the house full.”

She laughed.

“No-Jimmy won’t stop me.”

He would rather she had remained sullen, but he laughed too.

“Well then, what do you want?”

She turned her head and looked past him again, but this time she was smiling.

“I’ll tell you if you like. Or perhaps you can guess. And when I want things I generally get them.”

“Do you?”

Their eyes met for a moment. Hers were full of a sparkling vitality. The current was dangerous again. Then she laughed.

“I shall have my flat in town. You’ll come and see me there, won’t you? We can have week-end parties down here, just to keep the staff up to the mark and give the village something to talk about.”

“It sounds marvellous. And now don’t you think we’d better go in?”

“And join the community singing?” She dropped her voice a note. “Afraid of being alone with me, darling?”

She got a black frown.

“Look here, Lois-”

“Saint Anthony?”

Under the frowning brows his look was cold.

“I suppose you know what you’re playing at.”

“Don’t you?”

“Oh, certainly. You’ve had a row with Jimmy, and you think it’s a bright idea to annoy him by flirting with me. And I’m telling you quite seriously and frankly that there’s nothing doing, and that you’d better watch your step! I won’t be used to annoy Jimmy!”