"I can't be long." Julia stared into his eyes with a calm smile, and tried to be simple and detached. She told herself that she could do nothing for him, but that she wanted him to understand her loneliness. "Well, we're going to be long--ever so long." Her hair is all in a mess--clouds about her eyes. Her little feet walking on clouds. Oh, Julia, my darling, I love you! She's not like other women I have known. If she gives herself to a caress it means something to her. "I've been looking forward to this--longing for it," he said. "You know that ever since that night I kissed you I've thought of almost nothing but you?" Julia said, "I'm sorry." "Why?" All at once everything confusing was being swept away in the nakedness of the wind they rode against. "Going too fast for you--dear?" "No. But you mustn't think of me so much." "Why?" "Because--I'm not worth it." Hypocrite. She wanted to be beautiful. She had a horrible sense of her own spiritual leanness and ugliness. If he would take me away--kiss me--anywhere--in darkness. She wanted to belong to some one so utterly as to make her oblivious of herself. They turned a sharp corner. They were in the park now. Pale leaves, yellow against the light, floated, and fell upon them in a shower of silk. "I'm in love with you, Julia." "Are you?" "Don't _ask_. You know it. Don't you want me to be?" Goode--too good. Hadn't meant to say that yet! "I don't know. I'm afraid I'm a disillusioned person. I'm tired watching people try to live through others. It can't be done." "I think I could live in you--through you--if you'd let me, Julia." "You don't know me." "How can I if you won't let me, Julia?" He drew the car nearly to a standstill. He grasped her fingers with his free hand. "I'm going to kiss you, dear." It was lonely here. She felt his mouth over her face and was ashamed of her distaste for him. "You're unhappy, Julia. Why are you unhappy?" She withdrew herself. "I am--horribly." Charles, hardening, felt relieved, and imagined himself stronger. Farley don't treat her well, he said to himself. In his mind was a furtive expectation, with which was mingled an unadmitted thought of divorce. "Don't be, darling. You make me too happy. It's not fair. Can't I be anything to you--even a little?" Julia laughed pathetically. "You must be. I'm here." "Yes, thank God, you are. And you're not going to be disgusted with me because I'm such an unpretentious human animal? My taste in music runs about as high as The Old Oaken Bucket, and I suppose if I'd been left to myself I'd have canned those Dudley Allen productions you persuaded Catherine to buy, and hung up Breaking The Home Ties instead. You know all this new art stuff goes over my head, child. Hate me for it?" "Not very much. Perhaps it goes over my head too."