But our hostess, it was evident, had no feeling for punctuality. “What a bore!” she exclaimed. “But never mind. We can make time. I wanted just to run up the tower before lunch. There’s such a wonderful bird’s-eye....” She looked inquiringly round. “What do you think, all of you? Shouldn’t we just dash up? It won’t take a minute.” She repeated the Siren smile. “Do let’s. Do!” And without waiting for the result of her plebiscite she walked rapidly towards the stairs. I followed her. But before I had taken five steps, the floor, the walls of the room seemed to fade into the distance. There was a roaring in my ears. It grew suddenly dark. I felt myself falling. For the second time since breakfast I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was lying on the floor, with my head on Mrs. Aldwinkle’s knees; and she was dabbing my forehead with a wet sponge. The first objects of which I was aware were her bright blue eyes hanging over me, very close, very bright and alarming. “Poor fellow,” she was saying, “poor fellow.” Then, looking up, she shouted angrily to the owners of the various legs and skirts which I distinguished mistily to right and left of me: “Stand back, you must stand back! Do you want to suffocate the poor fellow?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ PART III: THE LOVES OF THE PARALLELS ------------------------------------------------------------------------ PART III: The Loves of the Parallels CHAPTER I