"Yes. Every time I see you. It's not long before I go away now. Will you come with me? I can do better with you than without." "You don't know. You have never lived with me. I should hate being really poor in a house of my own." "I'd make you rich with love." "And feed me with it and clothe me, and feed and clothe an enormous family?" "We shouldn't have an enormous family at once. I'll make you rich before there are . . ." Minna tapped his hand with amused affection, got up and left him. She went and stood near Bennett and Annette and she heard him say: "Thank you for wearing them." She saw then that Annette was wearing two little red roses in her bosom. "It was kind of you to send them," said Annette. "I hardly dared," said Bennett. "I didn't know if I might. I never see you now." Annette looked up at him between fear and delight. His mournful eyes met hers, and with a small envy Minna saw that they were entirely oblivious of everybody in the room. Annette's lips pouted. A little sigh escaped her. She turned and hurried away. Basil Haslam came up, took Minna rather roughly by the arm and dragged her away to sit on the stairs. In her heart she was pleased by his masterfulness, but superficially she was irritated, and they sat quarrelling. The party engaged two rooms, one for cards and one for music. The room in which Bennett stood began to fill as Mary produced her violin. Annette returned from the kitchen with biscuits, sandwiches, cakes and a trifle, and when she had disposed them on the table she turned to Bennett and said: "Come." He followed her. She led the way into the little back garden, where, in a plot of grimy grass, grew a sycamore-tree. At the end of the garden was a decayed old summer-house of rustic wood. Bennett's heart thumped as they approached it. They entered and stood for a moment in the darkness, glad of it. Tears came to his eyes. He could not see her. His hands groped in the darkness and soon found hers, warm, trembling. Very gently he drew her to him and kissed her forehead and her hair many times. Closer and closer she pressed to him, her hand went up to his shoulder. He felt enormous strength come to him; the faintest little cry came from her and their lips met. For each it was the first kiss of the beloved, a greater joy than either had dreamed of, and therefore almost more pain than joy. Holding her to him, Bennett murmured: "Annette, love, I love you." And she gave little crooning sounds and was the first to kiss again. Presently they crept back to the house and stole into the rooms again, Bennett looking more miserable and feeling more aloof than ever. Minna saw that Annette's roses were crushed, so that one of them had lost its petals. Annette's lips were red and her eyes shone with a new light. Bennett sought Minna and stood in silence by her side. Minna turned to him and said tartly: "Annette is looking quite pretty to-night, isn't she?" "Is she?" Bennett's voice quavered.