Eddy, who had been going to lunch and spend the afternoon at the Crawfords’, made no question about it. He went to Molly and told her how it was. She listened silently. The room was strange with fog and blurred lights, and her small grave face was strange and pale too. Eddy said, “Molly, I wish you would come too, just this once. She would love it; she would indeed.... Just this once, Molly, because she’s in such trouble. Will you?” Molly shook her head, and he somehow knew it was because she did not trust her voice. “Well, never mind, then, darling. I’ll go alone.” Still she did not speak. After a moment he rose to go. He took her cold hands in his, and would have kissed her, but she pushed him back, still wordless. So for a moment they stood, silent and strange and perplexed in the blurred fog-bound room, hands locked in hands. Then Molly spoke, steady-voiced at last. “I want to say something, Eddy. I must, please.” “Do, sweetheart.” She looked at him, as if puzzled by herself and him and the world, frowning a little, childishly. “We can’t go on, Eddy. I ... I can’t go on.” Cold stillness fell over him like a pall. The fog-shadows huddled up closer round them. “What do you mean, Molly?” “Just that. I can’t do it.... We mustn’t be engaged any more.” “Oh, yes, we must. I must, you must. Molly, don’t talk such ghastly nonsense. I won’t have it. Those aren’t things to be said between you and me, even in fun.” “It’s not in fun. We mustn’t be engaged any more, because we don’t fit. Because we make each other unhappy. Because, if we married, it would be worse. No--listen now; it’s only this once and for all, and I must get it all out; don’t make it more difficult than it need be, Eddy. It’s because you have friends I can’t ever have; you care for people I must always think bad; I shall never fit into your set.... The very fact of your caring for them and not minding what they’ve done, proves we’re miles apart really.” “We’re not miles apart.” Eddy’s hands on her shoulders drew her to him. “We’re close together--like this. And all the rest of the world can go and drown itself. Haven’t we each other, and isn’t it enough?” She pulled away, her two hands against his breast. “No, it isn’t enough. Not enough for either of us. Not for me, because I can’t not mind that you think differently from me about things. And not for you, because you want--you need to have--all the rest of the world too. You don’t mean that about its drowning itself. If you did, you wouldn’t be going to spend Sunday with----” “No, I suppose I shouldn’t. You’re right. The rest of the world mustn’t drown itself, then; but it must stand well away from us and not get in our way.”