There are some blue eyes which seem to have a spark of the devil lurking in them always, even when they are serious. Denzil's were such eyes. Women found it difficult to resist his charm, and indeed had never tried very hard. Life and its living, knowledge to acquire, work to do, beasts to hunt, had not left him too much time to be spoiled by them fortunately, and he had passed through several adventures safely and had never felt anything but the most transient emotion, until now looking at Amaryllis sitting opposite him he knew that he was in love with this dream which had materialised. Amaryllis studied him while they talked of ordinary things and the war news and when he would go out. She felt some strong attraction drawing her to him. Her sense of depression left her. She found herself noticing how the sun which had broken through a cloud turned his immaculately brushed hair into bronze. She did a little modelling to amuse herself, and so appreciated balance and line. Everything in Denzil was in the right place, she decided, and above all he looked so peculiarly alive. He seemed, indeed, to be the reality of what her imagination had built up round the personality of John in the weeks of their separation. Denzil believed that he was talking quite casually, but his glance was ardent, and atmosphere becomes charged when emotions are strong no matter how insignificant words may be. Amaryllis _felt_ that he was deeply interested in her. "You know my friend Verisschenzko well, it seems," she said presently. "Is not he a fascinating creature? I always feel stimulated when I am with him, and as if I must accomplish great things." "Stepan is a wonder--we were at Oxford together--he can do anything he desires. He is a musician and an artist and is chock full of common sense, and there's not a touch of rot. He would have taken honours if he had not been sent down." Amaryllis wanted to know about this, and listened amazedly to the story of the mad freak which had so scandalised the Dons. She had recovered from her nervousness, she was natural and delightful, and although the peculiar situation was filling Denzil with excitement and emotion, he was too much a man of the world to experience any _gene_. So they talked for a while with friendliness upon interesting things. Then a pause came and Amaryllis looked out of the window, and Denzil had time to grow aware that he must hold himself with a tighter hand, a sense almost of intoxication had begun to steal over him. Suddenly Amaryllis grew very pale and her eyelids flickered a little; for the first time in her life she felt faint. He bent forward in anxiety as she leaned her head against the cushioned division.