The outward events of Monday were not exciting. Joanna drove into Rye with Peter Crouch behind her, and met Albert Hill with a decorous handshake on the platform. During the drive home, and indeed during most of his visit, his attitude towards her was scarcely more than ordinary friendship. In the afternoon, when Ellen had gone out with Tip Ernley, he gave her a few kisses, but without much passion. She began to feel disquieted. Had he changed? Was there someone else he liked? At all costs she must hold him--she must not let him go. The truth was that Hill felt uncertain how he stood--he was bewildered in his mind. What was she driving at? Surely she did not think of marriage--the difference in their ages was far too great. But what else could she be thinking of? He gathered that she was invincibly respectable--and yet he was not sure.... In spite of her decorum, she had queer, unguarded ways. He had met no one exactly like her, though he was a man of wide and not very edifying experience. The tactics which had started his friendship with Joanna he had learned at the shorthand and typewriting college where he had learned his clerking job--and they had brought him a rummage of adventures, some transient, some sticky, some dirty, some glamorous. He had met girls of a fairly good class--for his looks caused much to be forgiven him--as well as the typists, shop-girls and waitresses of his more usual association. But he had never met anyone quite like Joanna--so simple yet so swaggering, so solid yet so ardent, so rigid yet so unguarded, so superior and yet, he told himself, so lacking in refinement. She attracted him enormously ... but he was not the sort of man to waste his time. "When do you go back to London?" she asked. "Wednesday morning." She sighed deeply, leaning against him on the sofa. "Is this all the holiday you'll get this year?" "No--I've Whitsun coming--Friday to Tuesday. I might run down to Marlingate ..." He watched her carefully. "Oh, that 'ud be fine. You'd come and see me here?" "Of course--if you asked me?" "If I asked you," she repeated in a sudden, trembling scorn. Her head drooped to his breast, and he took her in his arms, holding her across him--all her magnificent weight upon his knees. Oh, she was a lovely creature ... as he kissed her firm, shy mouth it seemed to him as if her whole body was a challenge. A queer kind of antagonism seized him--prude or rake, she should get her lesson from him all right. Sec.18 When he had gone Joanna said to Ellen-- "D'you think it would be seemly if I asked Mr. Hill here to stay?" "Of course it would be 'seemly,' Jo. I'm a married woman. But would he be able to come? He's in business somewhere, isn't he?" "Yes, but he could get away for Whitsun." "Then ask him by all means. But ..." She looked at her quickly and teasingly. "But what?" "Jo, do you care about this man?" "What d'you mean? Why should I care? Or, leastways, why shouldn't I?"