"_When you and I behind the Veil are past, Oh! but the long, long while the world shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As much as Ocean of a pebble cast. One moment in Annihilation's Waste, One moment of the Well of Life to taste-- The Stars are setting, and the Caravan Draws to the dawn of nothing!--Oh, make haste!_" --Omar Khayyám. The docility with which Gerald accepted the change of subject was completely reassuring to Virginia. His words led her to suppose that he imagined all to be well between herself and her husband. She gave herself up to fullest enjoyment of the fine weather, the swift motion, the beautiful country. Bodiam Castle she found entrancing, and her fresh, almost childlike interest in exploring it gave Gerald a kind of pleasure hard to explain. Her unconsciousness put him upon his honour; yet it was subtly alluring, too. It urged him to find out what would happen if she could be brought face to face with the truth about herself and him. He found himself lost in contemplation of the curious subtlety of her nature, as contrasted with its simplicity. He knew, as it happened, that her marriage was most unhappy. He doubted whether he could have discovered as much without the information given him by her mother. Her reserve was impenetrable. If she betrayed herself, it was quite involuntarily, in some phrase which, to him who knew, bore a tragic significance. "You are a man--you can do as you like. I must do as some one else wills, all my life long." This was as near as she had come, in words, to lifting the veil so carefully dropped. He ranged her qualities one against the other--her incapacity for flirtation, her power of preserving a dignified secrecy. Artlessness combined with prudence! It was another such apparent contradiction which had mystified Gaunt--her hard toil and ceaseless sacrifice, taken in conjunction with her regard for appearances, her love of dainty raiment. As a matter of fact, there was no contradiction. Innate pride and refinement accounted for attributes which seemed to clash. The day's programme was carried through with much success. They lunched at Lewes, and thence, hugging the northern edge of the Downs, they passed to Steyning and on through Storrington to Pulborough. Here they had an early tea, being warned that no tea was obtainable at Bignor; and went on, through the exquisite late afternoon, along roads which grew to be what Virgie described as "lanier and more laney." It was as they approached Bignor that Gerald said: