‘It would, it would. We’d _live_ a bit instead of thinking. I’d make you forget, I swear: and what things I’d give you to remember instead!--good things that have been my secrets for years, that I’ve longed for years to share, to offer to your lovely quick intelligence. No one else has had them, Judith. They’ve been waiting for you: nobody else has ever come near you in my mind. Judith, it wouldn’t be the irritating tiresome old bore you know: that isn’t I! I’ve got secrets. Let me tell you them. So much beauty I’d enrich you with, and then I’d let you go. Isn’t that fair? Isn’t that worth having? Go and marry and breed afterwards if you must, but let me give you this first. Try me, Judith, try me. You can’t refuse to try me. I want you so much.’ She wanted to stop her ears: for she felt herself helplessly yielding to the old syren of words. ‘Julian--I couldn’t give you--what you wanted. Oh, I couldn’t! It’s such a step--you don’t realise--for a woman. She can’t ever get back--afterwards, and be safe in the world. And she might want to.’ ‘I’d see you got back if you wanted to. But I don’t think you will. You won’t want to be safe. That’s not for you. Oh, Judith, I know you better than you know yourself.’ ‘No. No.’ She was locked away from him and he did not know it. What he mistook for her living self was a mummy, with a heart of dry dust. He had not the perspicacity to see it. He was silent and then said: ‘I wouldn’t ask you for anything you--weren’t prepared to give me. I hope--that might come. But for the present all I want is to help you live again--in better, more enduring, ways. Will you let me? Will you allow me to love you, Judith?’ ‘Perhaps. Perhaps, Julian. I’ll try. I’ll try to love you too.’ The words broke from her on top of a great sigh. ‘My dear!’ She felt his triumph. He put an arm round her and lightly kissed her, and she thought: ‘Now I’ve been kissed by all three of them.’ ‘But wait, Julian!’ she protested, near to nervous tears. ‘Don’t say any more now. Take me home.’ ‘Yes, yes. I’ll take you home now.’ His voice was soothing and tender. He was letting her see that his patience was infinite. This time, she was caught. The car glided downwards from the hills into the plain, through the lovely calm. Once she broke silence to say: ‘Nothing’s worth while, Julian? It doesn’t matter what one does? There’s no point, really, in being alive?’ He laughed. ‘Poor Judy! Give it up! You’ll have to in time. Resign yourself, and the compensations won’t seem so preposterously inadequate. There was a time.... But that’s past. So long as there’s a balance of happiness I’m content to be alive. That it’s all futile has ceased to trouble me. It’s not really difficult to be happy, Judith.’ ‘Well--you shall show me.’ But she felt crushed with melancholy to hear him; and his calm voice echoed drearily in her heart. * * * * *