‘Now please may we go home?’ he said plaintively. And all at once Judith was reminded of Charlie as a small boy, difficult, petulant, imperious, and yet all the time half laughing at himself in a way that disarmed rebuke: as who should say: ‘I know I’m being a beast and I _will_ be a beast, as long as I like; but you mustn’t mind and you mustn’t take me seriously.’ Julian went on: ‘Let’s all go home and have a nice quiet game of something in the billiard room. Oh, I do hate outdoors so. I do hate the country.’ Martin looked distressed. ‘You’re very ungrateful,’ said Mariella. ‘It was Martin’s treat for you.’ She took Martin’s hand and patted it. ‘Because you said you remembered coming here once when you were a boy and finding a new insect, and how you’d always wanted to come back,’ explained Martin. ‘Oh, my accursed sentimentality! I wanted to bring back the days when I was a carefree beetle-hunter. _Weren’t_ there any flies then? Or didn’t one notice them?’ ‘I remember one of the beetle-walks when I went with you,’ said Judith. ‘We came back with our legs and arms swollen up like balloons.’ ‘Do you remember that?’ He sat up and smiled at her. ‘Did we go on beetle-walks together?’ ‘Yes.’ She blushed. ‘Sometimes. I was very proud when you took me.’ He laughed delightedly. ‘I believe I remember. You _were_ a peculiar child. What else did we do when we were young? Can you remember?’ ‘I remember a lot.’ ‘Oh, do tell us.’ She shook her head. ‘What were we like? Who was the nicest? Martin of course: you needn’t answer that. But who was the most attractive? Which did you like best?’ ‘If you can’t remember I shan’t remind you.’ ‘Oh, I believe it was me!’ cried Julian; ‘I’m almost sure it was. Haven’t I always been your favourite?’ She laughed teasingly in his face. ‘Well, I’m sure I deserved to be,’ he said. ‘You were _my_ favourite anyway. Absolutely my favourite woman. You always have been.... Have we changed very much?’ ‘No. Very little.’ ‘Which of us has changed most?’ Judith paused a moment and then answered: ‘Mariella.’ And directly she had said it she realized afresh how true it was: too true to have been so lightly spoken. Mariella had changed indeed. Her smile, and Julian’s, faded abruptly. ‘Oh, have I?’ she said, looking away embarrassed. ‘I don’t think Mariella’s changed a bit,’ said Martin with surprise. ‘Ah, well,’ said Julian, coming out of a deep musing, ‘I _feel_ changed, Heaven knows.... Now I shall have a short sleep, my children, and then I am at your disposal for a jolly game of tag. Judith has, as usual, cured me of most of my bad temper, and slumber will complete the process. Judith, angel, you’ll stay by me, won’t you, and wave cigarettes?... Go away, chaps. Judith and I are going to converse until I fall asleep. Remember I haven’t seen her for three years.’ ‘I’m going to look for a place to bathe,’ said Martin. ‘Mariella, will you come?’