She put out her two hands and took hold of his. That well-remembered sweet, subtle scent of hers rose to his nostrils. There is nothing more insidious than a scent which carries suggestions and associations. ‘Frankie, you have not kissed me yet.’ She turned her smiling face upwards and sideways, and for an instant he leaned forward towards it. But he had himself in hand again in a moment. It gave him confidence to find how quickly and completely he could do it. With a laugh, still holding her two hands, he pushed her back into the chair by the table. ‘There’s a good girl!’ said he. ‘Now we’ll have some tea, and I’ll give you a small lecture while we do so.’ ‘You are a nice one to give lectures.’ ‘Oh, there’s no such preacher as a converted sinner.’ ‘You really are converted then?’ ‘Rather. Two lumps, if I remember right. You ought to do this, not I. No milk, and very strong—how you keep your complexion I can’t imagine. But you do keep it; my word, you do! Now please don’t look so crossly at me.’ Her flushed cheeks and resentful eyes had drawn forth the remonstrance. ‘You _are_ changed,’ she said, with surprise as well as anger in her voice. ‘Why, of course I am. I am married.’ ‘For that matter Charlie Scott is married.’ ‘Don’t give Charlie Scott away.’ ‘I think I give myself away. So you have lost all your love for me. I thought it was to last for ever.’ ‘Now, do be sensible, Violet.’ ‘Sensible! How I loathe that word! A man only uses it when he is going to do something cold-blooded and mean. It is always the beginning of the end.’ ‘What do you want me to do?’ ‘I want you to be my own Frankie—just the same as before. Ah do, Franck—don’t leave me! You know I would give any of them up for you. And you have a good influence over me—you have really! You call’t think how hard I am with other people. Ask Charlie Scott. He will tell you. I’ve been so different since I have lost sight of you. Now, Frankie, don’t be horrid to me! Kiss and be nice!’ Again her soft warm hand was upon his, and the faint sweet smell of violets went to his blood like wine. He jumped up, lit another cigarette, and paced about the room. ‘You shan’t have a cigarette, Frankie.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Because you said once it helped you to control yourself. I don’t want you to control yourself. I want you to feel as I feel.’ ‘Do sit down, like a good girl!’ ‘Cigarette out!’ ‘Don’t be absurd, Violet!’ ‘Come, out with it, sir.’ ‘No, no, leave it alone!’ She had snatched it from his lips and thrown it into the grate. ‘What is the use of that? I have a case full.’ ‘They shall all follow the first.’ ‘Well, then, I won’t smoke.’ ‘I’ll see that you don’t.’ ‘Well, what the better are you for that?’ ‘Now, be nice.’ ‘Go back to your chair and have some more tea.’ ‘Oh, bother the tea!’ ‘Well, I won’t speak to you unless you sit down and behave yourself.’ ‘There now! Speak away.’