TERRY by JAMES HILTON THORNTON BUTTERWORTH LIMITED 15, BEDFORD STREET, LONDON, W.C. 2 _First Published--1927_ _By the Same Author_: THE PASSIONATE YEAR THE DAWN OF RECKONING THE MEADOWS OF THE MOON This is a work of fiction, and all the characters in the book are drawn from the author's imagination. Care has been taken to avoid the use of names or titles belonging to living persons, and if any such names or titles have been used, this has been done inadvertently and no reference to such person or persons is intended. CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE TERRY CHAPTER ONE I I FIRST met him outside the Tube Station at Hampstead; he had travelled on my train, and I had noticed him particularly because, like me, he was wearing a rather shabby overcoat over a dress-suit. At the corner of Rosslyn Hill I went into a shop for some tobacco, and when I came out he was waiting for me. He asked me in a rather shy voice if I could direct him to the End House. I told him that I could, and that since I was going to the End House myself he had better come with me. We walked quite a long way without saying a word. Every now and then as we neared lamp-posts or brilliantly-lit shops I glanced sideways at him, and each time he was looking grimly ahead, as if life were a tremendous ordeal. He was rather good-looking, in a restrained sort of way; tall, well-proportioned, fair-haired and blue-eyed, he had all the attributes of the matinee idol except that he didn't look like one. Towards the top of Heath Street I tried to get him into conversation. "I suppose we're both guests at Severn's dinner-party to-night?" I remarked. "I suppose so," he answered rather gloomily, and then suddenly, with a sort of shy vehemence, he added: "I hate dinner-parties." "Oh, but you won't hate this one," I assured him. "Severn's people are always interesting.... By the way, haven't you been before?" "No. I didn't meet Severn till last week--didn't particularly want to, either. Somebody introduced us at the College--just casually, that was all--and then, a couple of days later, he sent me this invitation." "Just what he _would_ do. But you needn't worry--you won't be bored." He answered, with heavy despair: "I shall be worse than bored."