He passed a hand across his forehead: his first gesture. Then he too was feeling, however slightly. ‘I thought that was what you wanted: what you were asking for,’ he said. ‘Oh, so you thought you’d oblige----’ No, no, not sarcasm. She waited a moment and added: ‘I see. You misunderstood me. I daresay it was quite natural. You thought I wanted what you wanted--just a little--a little passion--to round off a flirtation--and be done with it. Well....’ The lane was so still that she could hear the dull beat of oars in passing boats on the other side of the fence. The evening had become very cold. She gave a little laugh and said: ‘I really am very sorry to make this fuss. It’s too laughable that I should--_I!_ ... I suppose you never dreamed I--wasn’t used to this sort of thing--from men?’ ‘I thought you knew pretty well what you were about.’ ‘And I didn’t! I didn’t! I was being _deceived_--like any.... Oh, it’s so _vulgar_!’ She shut her eyes, laughing weakly. ‘That’s why you didn’t make your meaning plainer, I suppose. You thought I was quite used to--that sort of thing--kissing--just for a lark. Just for a lark, Roddy--that was it, wasn’t it? And I got serious, and tried to--to let you in for more.... I tried to _catch_ you. Poor Roddy! But you’d never get let in, would you? You know your own mind. You’re cautious. You’ll see--,’ she waved her hand slightly, ‘I’m not dangerous. I’ll never bother you any more. And I’m very _very_ sorry.’ She broke down with a gasp, but did not weep. ‘I’m sorry, Judith. I apologise. I----’ His voice had now the faintest trace of emotion. ‘_Oh!_’ She controlled herself. ‘Apologise! Have _I_ accused you? This is just another damned muddle. I’m only trying to understand it.’ ‘I really think I had better go,’ he said. ‘No!’ She put out a hand and clutched his arm in desperate protest. ‘Not yet, Roddy. Not for a moment. Can’t we--O God! I wish I’d never written that letter. Then there’d have been no need for all this.... You’d have gone away and said nothing--and gradually I’d have understood. I should have seen it all in its proper light. Things would have somehow come right again, perhaps. And now I suppose they never can.... Can they, Roddy, can they? Oh, if they could!’ How he was hating this scene! It was a shame to prolong it. He swallowed hard and said, rather nervously: ‘Do you suppose you really meant--all you said in your letter?’ It was her chance. She must say it was all nonsense, that letter, that it was written in a moment of madness; that she did not mean it now. Then they might somehow manage to laugh together and part friends. He was such a good laugher! She could go away and bury her disappointment; and next time they met, be to him what he wanted: a light flame of passion, blown out, relit again. He had given her the taste for his kisses. She would miss them, and desire them painfully. If she could act her part skilfully now, she need not be for ever without them.