There fell thy shadow, Cynara! Thy breath was shed Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine; And I was desolate and sick of an old passion, Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head: I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion.’ “One never forgets. There’s always a Cynara. One may love twenty times, but betwixt your lips and the lips of the latest woman there’s always the memory of the first ghostly rapture. You seek Cynara to the end of life; but if you met her again, you would not find her.” Across the window the snow drifted white as the loosened hair of Time. In the room there was no stir. Unseen people entered. Vashti shaded her face with her hand; it was easy to guess of whom she was thinking. Fluffy gazed into space, a child who finds itself alone and is frightened. Mr. Dak was inscrutable. Horace lay back, staring at the ceiling, watching the ascending smoke of his cigarette. To Teddy the room was like an empty house in which innumerable clocks ticked loudly. He met Desire’s eyes. “We are young. We are young,” they said. “Why won’t they leave us to ourselves?” “My God, I wish I were little. I wish I were no older than Desire. I wish I could get away from all this rottenness and wake up to-morrow in the country. Think what it’ll look like, all white and sparkling and shiny! Where’s the good of your telling me you love me, Horace, if you can’t make me good and little--if you can’t put back the hands of Time?” Fluffy jumped up, half laughing, half crying, and threw wide the window. She leant out, so that the snow fell glistening in the gold of her hair. “Not a sound. Listen!” Horace rose and stood beside her. “Would you like to wake up in the country? I’ll manage it. I’d manage anything for you, little girl.” Mr. Dak broke his silence. “I know a farm. It’s up the Hudson--seventy miles at least from here. The people are my friends.” In a babel of excited voices it was planned. Of a sudden the triflers had become lovers confessed. They seemed to think that by the childish trick of escaping, their youth could be recaptured. While the women ran off to change and wrap up, the men completed arrangements for the journey. When the limousine arrived it had seats for only five; cushions were strewn on the floor for Desire and Teddy. She kept far away from him till the light went out. Again it was like standing in an empty house; people’s brains were clocks which ticked solemnly, “And I was desolate and sick of an old passion.” They two alone had nothing to remember--all the rapture of life lay ahead. In the darkness he felt her hand groping. One by one he coaxed apart the reluctant fingers and pressed the little palm against his mouth. She allowed herself to be drawn closer; he could feel the wild bird of her heart beating its wings against the walls of the flesh. “Dearest.” “Hush! Dear is enough,” she whispered.