She went before him. To her the walk was a revelation of her capacity for happiness and when she went to bed that night, she could look back on the day and marvel at the ease with which she had talked about herself, what she wished to do, what she feared she would never do, telling him all without a thought of making any effect, impelled by her conviction of his sympathy, and her own need to speak. Only now, in the quiet of the bedroom, did she speculate on Alexander's judgment of her. She had walked with him for hours, she had been careless of his opinion because she trusted it, because she had so completely and immediately accepted him as friend that another conception of the relationship had seemed impossible, and she saw now that her feeling for him had been too sure and swift for any reflex action. She was less likely to pose to him even than to herself, and, pondering on that remarkable fact, she sat on the bed and drew off her stockings. After all her years of introspection and enjoyment of an audience, this new condition neared the miraculous, and it grew in significance as she sat, slowly unfastening her clothes. Why, it had all been as simple as picking a flower and putting it in her dress, but that Alexander was hardly comparable to a flower. What was he like? A hill, she thought, mirroring the clouds and growing light again with their passing. She told no one of her meeting with him, and she did not see him again. To Alexander the memory of that day was a tempting and detested scourge. He was twenty-seven, and the two women who were his friends had held him in their laps. Young women were strangers even to his thoughts, and at Theresa's invasion of his home he had left it, only to have her gold and purple thrust into his hands. And how tightly he had held them all that day! How he had watched her going before him, turning, now and then, to speak! The allurement of her poised body had been strong for him: she had come upon him out of the very earth, with the sun on her hair, and his unguarded senses had greeted her in spite of the dictates of his mind, and, powerful against all warnings, he felt the stirring of the life that had been so long asleep.