"Rather!" she said hastily, and moved back into the sitting-room. She stepped on something, and bent down to pick it up. It was Marr's photograph. "What's that?" Julian asked. "Nothing," she said, concealing it. She had a foolish fancy that even the photograph of the creature she had feared and hated might spoil that good-bye of theirs. Yet even as it was, when Julian had gone she still seemed unsatisfied. She was a woman after all, and woman is most feminine in her farewells. CHAPTER II VALENTINE SINGS When Valentine heard of the scene in Marylebone Road he smiled. "How extraordinary women are," he said. "A man might give his life to them, I suppose, yet never understand them." "It would be rather jolly--making that gift, I mean," said Julian. "You think so? Since last night." "I want to talk to you about that, Valentine, d'you blame me?" "Not a bit." "Only wonder at me?" "I don't even say that." "No; but of course you must wonder at me." Julian spoke almost wistfully, and as if he wanted Valentine to sweep away the suggestion. Last night they had been comrades. To-day, in the light and in the calm of afternoon, Valentine seemed much more remote, and Julian felt for the first time a sense of degradation. He was uneasily conscious that he might have fallen in Valentine's esteem. But Valentine reassured him. "I don't wonder at you, either, Julian; I simply envy you, and metaphorically sit at your feet." "That's absurd." "Not quite; and I may not always be sitting there, for I believe I have really got a little bit of your soul. Last night I seemed to feel it stirring within me, and I liked its personality." "You did seem different last night," Julian said, looking at Valentine with a keen interest. "Can it be possible that those sittings of ours have really had any effect?" "On me they have; not on you. You haven't caught my coldness, but I have gained something of your warmth. Doesn't that perhaps show that mine was, after all, the wrong nature?" "I don't know," Julian said doubtfully; "you look the same." "Do I? Exactly?" Valentine spoke with a sort of whimsical defiance, as if almost daring Julian to answer, Yes. And Julian, too, seemed suddenly doubtful whether he had stated what was the fact. He looked closely at Valentine. "Do you think your face has changed? Do you mean to say that?" he asked. "I only fancied there might be a little more humanity in it, that was all." "Once or twice I have thought I noticed something," Julian said, still doubtfully; "but I believe it's imagination. It doesn't stay." "When it does, I suppose I shall be able thoroughly to appreciate all your temptations. Don't you begin to think now it's good to have them."