‘You see how simply it can be worked,’ said Stephen. ‘You merely turn this tap--<i>a</i>--and the water flows through <i>b</i> and <i>c</i>, along <i>d</i>, and round the curve to <i>f</i>, washing out, on its way, the whole of <i>e</i>.’ Her mother murmured something--Virginia thought she said, ‘I’d like to be <i>e</i>’--and if this was really what she did say, it was evident that she not only looked sleepy, but was very nearly actually asleep. In which case Stephen’s pains were all being wasted, and he might just as well leave off. ‘Not only,’ said Stephen, ‘is this the simplest device of any that have been submitted, and as far as one can humanly tell absolutely foolproof, but, as is so often the case with the best, it is also the cheapest.’ There was a long pause. Her mother said nothing. Virginia looked at her, and it did seem as if she really had gone to sleep. ‘Mother,’ said Virginia gently. She couldn’t bear that Stephen should be taking all this trouble to interest and inform somebody who wasn’t awake. Her mother started and gave herself a little shake and said rather hastily, ‘I see.’ And then, to save what she felt was a delicate situation and divert Stephen’s attention from herself--he was looking at her thoughtfully over the top of his glasses--she pointed to a specially involuted part of the plan, where pipes seemed twisted in a frenzy, and asked what happened there, at that knot, at--she bent closer--yes, at <i>k</i>. Stephen, simple-minded man, at once with the utmost courtesy and clearness told her, and before he was half-way through his explanation Virginia noticed--it was really very queer--her mother’s eyelids shutting again. This time she got up a little brusquely; she couldn’t let Stephen’s kindness and time be wasted in such a manner. ‘It’s my hour for resting,’ she said, standing gravely at the table, one hand, a red young hand with a slender wedding ring, resting on her husband’s shoulder. ‘I suppose I ought to go and lie down.’ Her mother at that moment came to life again. ‘Shall I come and tuck you up?’ she asked, making a movement as if she were going to accompany her. ‘Sweet of you, mother--but if Stephen doesn’t mind, I thought I’d rest on the couch in his study to-day. It’s so comfortable.’ ‘Certainly,’ said Stephen. He refrained from calling her his love; he and she both refrained from any endearments in public,--on principle, as unseemly in a clergyman’s family, and also because they feared that if once they began they mightn’t be able to stop, so excessive was their mutual delight, at this early stage, in lovemaking, and so new were they both at the delicious game. And, besides this, they were shy, and unable either of them in their hearts to get away from a queer feeling of guilt, in spite of the Law and the Church both having shed their awful smiles and blessings on whatever they might choose to do.