rolled over on the grass to look at Judith, lazily, laughingly. ‘That’s all,’ he said. ‘Now it’s your turn.’ ‘No, no. Go to sleep. I’ve nothing to tell you.’ ‘The mosquitoes have all disappeared,’ he said. ‘Why? Perhaps I’d better take the opportunity--I shall be so charming when I wake up again. Thank you, Judith. You’ve done me good.’ He shut his eyes; and re-opened them to say: ‘I told you you were always in the back of my mind. It’s true. Always.’ He took her hand. ‘Judith, am I going to be allowed to know you at last?’ ‘Oh yes, Julian, of course.’ ‘Hum--I wonder.’ He was staring at her with intense inquiry and concentration; but she turned her eyes away. She could not feel that the matter was of much importance. ‘We’re going to see each other a lot?’ ‘As much as you like.’ ‘What are your plans?’ ‘I’m here till the end of July. Then I go abroad with Mamma. To France. To Vichy part of the time. She will believe the cure does her good.’ ‘I shall come and find you in France. I shall come to Vichy and take you away from Mamma. I do better in France. You might find me quite a pleasant companion. There’s so much I should like to show you--do with you. Shall I come?’ ‘Oh yes, Julian. Do.’ ‘And you’d talk to me?’ She nodded. ‘In the end,’ he said, watching her intently, ‘I believe you will.... I told you I could wait.’ He relinquished her hand, and shut his eyes. She got up and sprang away from him down the bank. * * * * * The afternoon was breathless with a thundery heat. The fern-clad slopes were sculptured and glittering cascades. Monk’s Water hid between its shady banks. She followed its twisting course, looking ahead of her for the blue of Martin’s shirt, the white of Mariella’s linen frock. Roddy was a waster.... It was in the family.... Roddy was no good, he was a waster. Perhaps, like Julian, he had mistresses: a French, an Austrian, a Russian--countless mistresses. Perhaps that was an integral part of being a waster.... She came round a sharp corner, and saw, through the elder bushes, a whitish form in the water. It straightened itself swiftly, alert at the sound of her footsteps. ‘Judy?’ called a voice uncertainly--Mariella’s voice. Judith parted the elder bushes and looked through: and there was Mariella standing naked in midstream with clear brown water up to her knees. ‘Goodness, I’m glad it’s you!’ she cried happily. ‘I thought it might be someone else. Come on in, Judy. It’s so lovely.’ She stood in the full sunlight, her arms lifted and laid across her forehead to shade her eyes, her lips laughing. Her tall body glowed in the glowing air, narrow of hip, breastless almost, with faint, long young-looking curves; the whole outline smooth and very firm in spite of its slenderness. Her voice vibrated gaily, excitedly. She was happy.