“I wish I had your enthusiasm,” she said. “And your power of work. Do you remember your lectures?” They talked a little about the old days, half sadly, half tenderly. Those memories were very pleasant. Then they came back to the present. “Winnie tells me you are a great man now at the Museum. I am so glad.” Kent waved his hand deprecatingly and laughed. “Winifred is quite an Iris,” he replied. “For she comes down to earth sometimes and tells me things about you. Yes, I am quite a man of affluence these days. I am the head of the department. I have got so much money I don't know what to do with it.” “I hope you employ some of it in giving yourself proper meals,” said Clytie. “Or do you still have your extraordinary suppers?” “Oh, I live just the same,” said Kent. “If I began to be respectable in one thing, I should gradually become so in all.” “And the rooms are just the same as ever?” “A few more pictures and odds and ends. And I have got a carpet. That's Wither's doing. He came to see me in the winter and caught a cold, due to the bare boards, so he said. When he had recovered he made me go and buy a thick Turkey square. After that I had serious designs of forbidding him the rooms lest he should turn them into a boudoir altogether.” They laughed over this idea. Clytie asked him whether he still kept the tripods before the fireplace, and whether the paraffin oil can in the corner harmonised well with the carpet. It was like a breath of fresh air to meet Kent again. Suddenly he pointed to her plate. “You are not eating anything.” “I am not hungry,” said Clytie with some demureness. “But if you have not had your evening meal, you'll get faint. What did you come down for, if you merely wanted to pick at the wing of a chicken and to put hardly any of it into your mouth?” Then Clytie burst out into merry laughter. He was so downright and honest. Just the same as ever. “Oh, you foolish Kent! I should have thought even you could have invented that.” “Did you really want to see me?” he asked, brightening. “Why, of course! Do you suppose I am devoid of human attributes?” This brought them nearer than they had been since the time that Kent realised he loved her. To Kent this meeting was enchantment. To see her sitting by him, bright, laughing, her old self, was enough to make him lose sense of the past eighteen months of hopeless longing. He thought to himself that it was better she had not learned, since her ignorance gave him this sweet half hour. “I suppose we must be going upstairs soon,” she said, with a little wistful wrinkling of her forehead. “When shall I see you again?” Kent started at the question. It troubled him. He did not know what answer to make. “Within less than another year, I hope,” he said. “Oh, yes, Kent. We mustn't be strangers any more. It's not good for us. Would you care about seeing me very often?” “I am not coming to call upon you,” he replied bluntly.