'Oh! Are you going to let me go already?' she asked reproachfully. She leant over him. Some impulse seemed to draw her near to him. 'You're using that Omar Khayyam scent again,' he said. 'I wish you wouldn't.' 'Why? you said you liked it.' 'I do like it. I like it too much.' She came nearer. Aylmer gently pushed her away. 'How unkind you are!' she said, colouring a little with hurt feeling. 'I can't do that sort of thing,' said Aylmer in a low voice. 'When once you've given me your promise--but not before.' 'Oh, Aylmer!' 'I won't rush you. You'll see I'm right in time, dear girl.' 'You don't love me!' suddenly exclaimed Edith. 'But that's where you're wrong. I do love you. And I wish you'd go.' She looked into his eyes, and then said, looking away: 'Are you really going out of town?' 'I'm ordered to. But I doubt if I can stand it.' 'Well, good-bye, Aylmer dear.' 'Fiend! Are you going already? Cruel girl!' 'Why you've just sent me away!' 'I can stand talking to you, Edith. Talking, for hours. But I can't stand your being within a yard of me.' 'Thank you so much,' she said, laughing, and arranging her hat in front of the mirror. He spoke in a lower voice: 'How often must I tell you? You know perfectly well.' 'What?' 'I'm not that sort of man.' 'What sort?' After a moment's pause he said: 'I can't kiss people.' 'I'm very glad you can't. I have no wish for you to kiss _people_.' 'I can't kiss. I don't know how anyone can. I can't do those things.' She pretended not to hear, looked round the room, took up a book and said: 'Will you lend me this, Aylmer?' 'No, I'll give it you.' 'Good-bye.' 'Good-bye, darling,' said Aylmer, ringing the bell. The butler called her a cab, and she drove to Mrs Mitchell's. When she got to the door she left a message with the footman to say she hadn't been able to see about that matter for Mrs Mitchell yet, but would do it tomorrow. Just as she was speaking Mr Mitchell came up to the door. 'Hallo, hallo, hallo!' he cried in his cheery, booming voice. 'Hallo, Edith! How's Bruce?' 'Why, you ought to know. He's been with you today,' said Edith. 'He seems a bit off colour at the Foreign Office. Won't you all three come and dine with us tomorrow? No party. I'm going to ring up and get Aylmer. It won't hurt him to dine quietly with us.' 'We shall be delighted,' said Edith. Mr Mitchell didn't like to see her go, but as he was longing to tell his wife a hundred things that interested them both, he waved his hand to her, saying: 'Good-bye. The war will be over in six months. Mark my words! And then won't we have a good time!' 'Dear Mr Mitchell!' said Edith to herself as she drove back home in the dark. CHAPTER XXVII