‘I almost wish she would,’ he went on. ‘I wish I was certain she was jealous or even critical of me. I haven’t the least idea where I am.’ He rubbed his eyes and forehead wearily. ‘It’s odd how her presence affects me. She gets on my nerves to a degree! Nothing but this sweet blank passivity.... You know I like people with spikes and facets, people who thrust back when I thrust, brilliant, quick glittering people. And I like people who are slow and deep and warm; and I think you’re one of that sort, Judy. But what is she? Sometimes I think she’s watching me intently but I don’t know where from, and it makes me irritable. She’s got quality, you know,--incredible physical and moral courage. I think that must have been what Charlie loved in her. But cold, cold and flat--to me.’ He sighed and shivered. ‘Oh, Julian, you’re very tired, aren’t you? There’s nothing to worry about. You’ve got things on your mind because you’re so tired. Does your head ache?’ ‘Yes. No.... I’m in a bad mood, Judith. You’d better leave me.’ But he spoke gently and raised his face to smile at her. It was then she saw that he had been crying. ‘I will leave you, Julian. I only came to say good-night. And to say I was sorry I made you angry. I wouldn’t have waked him for the world.’ ‘It’s all right. I’m sorry I was angry. Don’t worry.’ ‘Good-night, Julian.’ ‘Good-night Judith.... You look so lovely----’ She thought: ‘I shall never see him like this again. I must remember....’ They looked at each other deeply, and when she turned silently away she had in imagination stooped and kissed his cheek. As she opened the door, laughter and talk came suddenly to her from below,--a faint roar of male voices that struck her with strange alarm, and seemed to threaten her. She took a step back into the room again, listened and whispered: ‘Julian, who is that Tony?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to me. He writes verse I believe. He’s just bringing out a book. I gather from his conversation he is _quite_ the thing at Cambridge--in certain circles.’ ‘Is Roddy very fond of him?’ ‘Oh, Roddy! _Fond_ of him! I don’t know.’ ‘He seems to be very fond of Roddy.’ ‘Yes, it looks like it.’ He glanced at her sharply. She knew then she had dreaded that he would answer in that way, give her just such a look. She remembered that Tony had been suddenly hostile; his eyes stony and watchful, had fastened on her when she came in from the verandah with Roddy. The voices came up to her again, like a reiterated warning. ‘Keep away. You are not wanted here. We are all friends, men content together. We want no female to trouble us.’