“I wish to God I could take you away with me!” said the young man fiercely. “I wish you could, dear,” she said in her caressing tone. “But in the meantime we have these happy little hours. We mustn’t ask too much of fate.” “I only ask what fate gives to any man—that bus driver and that policeman—the woman he loves.” “I’m afraid,” she laughed, “if you heard the history of their _vie amoureuse_, you would be dreadfully disillusioned. It seems to me that everybody marries the wrong person in this muddle-pairing world. We must make the best of it.” At this period, infatuated though she was, she had no idea of breaking away from convention, even to the extent of setting up a household separate from her husband’s. Social life was dear to her, for all her asseverations to the contrary, and dearer still the influence that she could command. Yet, as the days went on she noticed signs of restiveness in Godfrey. An hour thrice a week in an open car, when half his attention had to be devoted to the preservation of their own and other people’s lives, scarcely satisfied his young ardour. The times when he could lounge free in her boudoir from four to six were over. As an officer on the staff of the Director-General of Operations, he knew no hours. The intricate arrangements for the mobility of the British Army did not depend on the convenience of young gentlemen at the War Office. Such had to scorn delight and live laborious days, which on the occasions of especial military activity were apt to run into the nights. Now and then, of course, Godfrey could assure himself an hour or so for lunch, but never could he foretell it on the day before. Only once, by hasty telephoning, did they manage to meet for lunch at the Carlton. In the evenings they were a little more successful. Now and again a theatre together. But Godfrey, suddenly become sensitive on the point of honour, refused opportunities of dining at Belgrave Square. “If I love a man’s wife, I can’t sit at his table and drink his wine and smile at him,” he proclaimed bluntly. “It seems,” she said, at last, “there’s nothing left but for me to run away with you.” “Why not?” he asked, laughing, for her tone was light. “What about the British Army?” He reflected. If she had said what about morality, or Christianity, or his immortal soul, he would have damned any item of them off-hand. But he couldn’t damn the British Army. He temporized. “I don’t quite see.” “If you ran away with me, you’d have to run an awful long way, and leave the Army in the lurch.” “That would never do,” said Godfrey. “So we’ll have to sacrifice ourselves for our country till the war’s over,” said Lady Edna. Then, in spite of philosophic and patriotic resolve, the relations between them grew to be uncertain and dangerous. Aware of this, she sought to play rather the part of Egeria than that of the unhappy wife claiming consolation from her lover.