And he folded his arms, and stood waiting with burning eyes for the door to be shut in his face. She stood a moment looking at him, a quick flush coming and disappearing across her face. ‘Oh,’ she then sighed faintly, ‘the <i>silliness</i>....’ For she was right up against it now. Her amusing little dream of resurrected youth was over. She was right up against Virginia. ‘Well, what are you going to do?’ asked Christopher, defiant on the threshold, waiting for his punishment. He knew it would be punishment; he saw by her face. But whatever it was, if it didn’t kill him he would bear it, and then, when it was over, begin again. She moved aside and pointed to the drawing-room door. ‘Ask you to come in,’ she said. VIII Christopher stared. ‘I’m to--come in?’ he stammered, bewildered. ‘Please.’ ‘Oh, my darling!’ he burst out, throwing down her cloak and coming in with a rush. But she held up her hand, exactly as if he were the traffic in Piccadilly, and remarked, so coldly that all that was left to him was once more bewilderment, ‘Not at all.’ ‘Not at all?’ he could only stupidly repeat. ‘Please come into the drawing-room,’ said Catherine, walking into it herself. ‘I want to tell you something.’ ‘Nothing you can tell me can ever----’ ‘Yes it can,’ said Catherine. Mrs. Mitcham appeared, following them into the room. ‘Shall I light the fire, m’m?’ she inquired. ‘It seemed warm, and Mr. Colquhoun thought----’ ‘Was Mr. Colquhoun here?’ ‘Yes, m’m. He’s only been gone a few minutes.’ ‘What a pity,’ said Catherine. ‘What a mercy,’ said Christopher. ‘I would have liked you to meet him,’ she said. ‘No, thank you--I won’t have a fire,’ she added, turning to Mrs. Mitcham, who went away and shut the door. ‘Why? Why on earth should you want me to meet Stephen?’ ‘He would so very nicely have pointed the moral of what I’m going to tell you,’ she said smiling, for she felt safe again, knowing that Virginia would bring him to his senses once and for ever. ‘Catherine, if you smile at me like that----’ he began, taking a step forward. ‘Christopher, it’s my conviction that you’re mad,’ she said, taking a step backward. ‘I never heard of a young man behaving as you do in my life before.’ ‘I’d kill any other young man who did. And look here--whatever it is you want to say, let me tell you you may say what you like, and tell me what you like, and send me away as much as you like, and it’ll have no effect whatever. I love you too much. I’ll always come back, and back, however often you send me away, till at last you’ll be so tired of it that you’ll marry me.’ ‘Marry you!’ ‘Yes, Catherine. It’s what one does. When people love frantically----’ She looked at him aghast at his expressions. ‘But who loves frantically?’ she inquired. ‘I do. All by myself at present. But you will too, soon. You won’t be able to help it. It’s the most absolutely catching thing----’