That night she lay awake in her big bed, as she had lain last night. She lay tense and still, and stared at the great gas globe that looked in through the open window from the street. Her brain formed phrases and pictures. 'That day on the river.... Those Sundays.... That lunch at the Florence.... "What attractive shoes those are."... My gray suedes, I had.... "I love these Sunday afternoons."... "You're one of the few girls who are jolly to watch when they run."... "Just you and me; wouldn't it be rather nice? I should like it, anyhow."... He kept looking.... Whenever I looked up he was looking.... his eyes awfully blue, with black edges to them.... Peggy said he blacked them.... Peggy was jealous because he never looked at her.... I'm jealous now because ... No, I'm not, why should I be? He doesn't like fat girls, he said.... He watches her.... He looks at her when there's a joke.... He bought me violets, but he went to see her.... He keeps coming over to Paris.... I never see him.... I don't get a chance.... He cared, he did care.... He's forgetting because I don't get a chance.... She's stealing him.... She was always a selfish little cad, grabbing, and not really caring. She can't care as I do, she's not made that way.... She cares for nothing but herself.... She gets everything, just by sitting still and not bothering.... College makes girls awful.... Peggy says men don't like them, but they do. They seem not to care about men, but they care just the same. They don't bother, but they get what they want.... Pig.... Oh, I can't bear it. Why should I?... I love him, I love him, I love him.... Oh, I must go to sleep. I shall go mad if I have another night like last night.' Clare got out of bed, stumbled to the washstand, splashed her burning head and face with cold water, then lay shivering. It may or may not be true that the power to love is to be found in the human being in inverse ratio to the power to think. Probably it is not; these generalisations seldom are. Anyhow, Clare, like many others, could not understand, but loved. 6 Lady Pinkerton said to her lord next day, 'How much longer will the peace take being made, Percy?' 'My dear, I can't tell you. Even I don't know everything. There are many little difficulties, which have to be smoothed down. Allies stand in a curious and not altogether easy relation to one another.' 'Italy, of course....' 'And not only Italy, dearest.' 'Of course, China is being very tiresome.' 'Ah, if it were only China!' Lady Pinkerton sighed. 'Well, it is all very sad. I do hope, Percy, that after this war we English will never again forget that we hate _all_ foreigners.' 'I hope not, my dear. I am afraid before the war I was largely responsible for encouraging these fraternisations and discriminations. A mistake, no doubt. But one which did credit to our hearts. One must always remember about a great people like ourselves that the heart leads.'