‘But, Judith--good heavens! A rabbit.... Judith. I’d never have shot it if I’d dreamed you’d mind.’ She went on staring and pulling up the grass. ‘Oh, this world!’ ‘Judith....’ He was silent, completely at a loss. ‘Still--it can’t be helped.... I suppose one gets accustomed....’ Her mind grew black again with formless and colossal conceptions of torture, murder, lust: and Roddy’s face went on grinning among them. All was lost, lost. ‘I’m very sorry,’ said Martin helplessly. ‘Oh, I don’t blame....’ ‘It didn’t suffer you know. Did you think it had? That kicking didn’t mean anything: it was simply reflex action.’ He thought he had found the clue; and added cheerfully: ‘You’d do the same if I shot you dead at the back of the head.’ ‘I wish you had.’ She wept. ‘Good God! Really, Judith.... I’ve said I’m sorry. I can’t go on saying it, can I? I didn’t know you were so--you oughtn’t to be so--easily upset. Rabbits have to be kept down, you know. They destroy everything. Ask my mother.’ She went on weeping; and after a little while he got up and strode a few steps away, and stood with his back to her, shoulders hunched. Worse and worse: he was deserting her.... She bit hard on her thumb till the pain of it steadied her, waited and then called tremblingly: ‘Martin!’ He turned, saw her hand held out and came quickly and knelt beside her. ‘What is it, Judy, what is it?’ ‘Oh, Martin! Oh, it’s nothing. Don’t ask, _don’t_.... Only--just--only----’ His arms went round her and she abandoned herself against him, pressing her head into his shoulder, groping for comfort, sobbing vast sobs, while he knelt beside her quietly and let himself be wept on; and now and then gave her shoulder a little pat. * * * * * After a long time she was so empty of tears that their source seemed dry for ever. She would never in her life weep any more. In the thin crystalline buoyancy of exhaustion she lay back on his shoulder and observed the gold light lying tender and still in the folds of the hills; and two rabbits skipping unperturbed not so very far away; and blue butterflies swinging on the long grasses; and all the evening shadows slanting beautifully downwards. Peace and comfort dropped upon her. The heavy ache for Roddy was gone. Oh, now to make this no-pain permanent, to fix this languor and mindless calm, to smother the voice which cried and cried: ‘I am cheap and shameful. I have been used for sport!’ Now was the time to turn to Martin and see if he could save her. She sat up and dried her eyes. ‘There!’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. Thank you, Martin. You are a dear. You’ve always been very kind to me, haven’t you?’ ‘Kind to you! Oh, Judith, you know----’ ‘I think you must rather like me, Martin.’ He said with a deep intake of breath: ‘Like you! You know I’ve loved you for years.’ She was silent, tasting a faint relief and satisfaction; and then said: ‘Well, what would you like me to do about it, Martin?’