"Of course, when a big choice comes," she said, "one's whole being has to consent. But one only has half a dozen of those in one's life, I expect." She had guessed quite rightly, for the idea of her marriage had inevitably suggested itself to Evelyn when she said "one hardly ever does a thing which every part of one wants to do." But in the addition she had made to her speech there was even a more direct allusion to it, which necessarily cancelled from his mind the first impression. He was bound, in fact, to accept her last word. But he fenced a little longer. "I don't see that one choice can really be considered bigger than another," he said. "The smallest choice may have the hugest consequences which one could never have foretold, because they are completely outside one's own control. I may, for instance, settle to go up to London to-morrow by the morning train or the later one. Well, that seems a small enough choice, but supposing one train has a frightful accident? What we can control is so infinitesimal compared to what lies outside us--engine-drivers, bullets, anything that may kill." The girl shuddered slightly. "It is all so awful," she said, "that. An ounce of lead, a fall, and one is extinguished. It is so illogical, too." "Ah, anything that happens to one's body, or mind either, is that," said Evelyn. "How? Surely one is responsible for what happens to one's mind." "Yes, in the way of learning ancient history, if we choose, or having drawing-lessons. But all the big things that can happen to one are outside one's control. Love, hate, falling in love particularly is, I imagine, completely independent of one's will." The girl gave a short, rather scornful laugh. "But one sees a determined effort to marry someone," she said, "often productive of a very passable imitation of falling in love." Had she boxed his ears, Evelyn could not have been more astonished. If this was an example of shutting the eyes; drawing a long breath and being natural, he felt that there was after all something to be said for the artificialities in which we are most of us wont to clothe ourselves. There was a very Marah of bitterness in the girl's tone; he felt, too, as if all the time she had concealed her hand, so to speak, behind her back, and suddenly thrown a squib at him, an explosive that cracked and jumped and jerked in a thoroughly disconcerting manner. And she read the blankness of his face aright, and hastened to correct the impression she had made. "Did you ever get behind a door when you were a child," she asked, "and jump out calling 'Bo!'? That is what I did just then, and it was a complete success." He looked at her a moment with his head on one side, as if studying an effect. "But it was you who jumped out?" he asked rather pertinently. "Ah, I wouldn't even say that," said she. "I think it was only a turnip-ghost that I had stuck behind the door." Evelyn gave a sort of triumphant shout of laughter.