“Thesun。”sheremarkedirrelevantly。”hasburntyou。I’mgettingdown。”
Sheswungherselfdownintomyarms，andstoodbesidemefacetoface。
“Where’sCothope？”sheasked。
“Gone。”
Hereyesflittedtothepavilionandbacktome。Westoodclosetogether，extraordinarilyintimate，andextraordinarilyapart。
“I’veneverseenthiscottageofyours。”shesaid，“andIwantto。”
Sheflungthebridleofherhorseroundtheverandapost，andI
helpedhertieit。
“DidyougetwhatyouwentfortoAfrica？”sheasked。
“No。”Isaid，“Ilostmyship。”
“Andthatlosteverything？”
“Everything。”
Shewalkedbeforemeintotheliving-roomofthechalet，andI
sawthatshegrippedherriding-whipverytightlyinherhand。
Shelookedaboutherforamoment，——andthenatme。
“It’scomfortable。”sheremarked。
Oureyesmetinaconversationverydifferentfromtheoneuponourlips。Asombreglowsurroundedus，drewustogether；anunwontedshynesskeptusapart。Sherousedherself，afteraninstant’spause，toexaminemyfurniture。
“Youhavechintzcurtains。Ithoughtmenweretoofecklesstohavecurtainswithoutawoman。But，ofcourse，yourauntdidthat！Andacouchandabrassfender，and——isthatapianola？
Thatisyourdesk。Ithoughtmen’sdeskswerealwaysuntidy，andcoveredwithdustandtobaccoash。”
Sheflittedtomycolourprintsandmylittlecaseofbooks。
Thenshewenttothepianola。Iwatchedherintently。
“Doesthisthingplay？”shesaid。
“What？”Iasked。
“Doesthisthingplay？”
Irousedmyselffrommypreoccupation。
“Likeamusicalgorillawithfingersallofonelength。Andasortofsoul。It’salltheworldofmusictome。”
“Whatdoyouplay？”
“Beethoven，whenIwanttoclearupmyheadwhileI’mworking。
Heis——howonewouldalwaysliketowork。SometimesChopinandthoseothers，butBeethoven。Beethovenmainly。Yes。”
Silenceagainbetweenus。Shespokewithaneffort。
“Playmesomething。”Sheturnedfrommeandexploredtherackofmusicrolls，becameinterestedandtookapiece，thefirstpartoftheKreutzerSonata，hesitated。“No。”shesaid，“that！”
ShegavemeBrahms’SecondConcerto，Op。58，andcurleduponthesofawatchingmeasIsetmyselfslowlytoplay。
“Isay。”hesaidwhenIhaddone，“that’sfine。Ididn’tknowthosethingscouldplaylikethat。I’mallastir。”
Shecameandstoodoverme，lookingatme。“I’mgoingtohaveaconcert。”shesaidabruptly，andlaugheduneasilyandhoveredatthepigeon-holes。“Now——nowwhatshallIhave？”ShechosemoreofBrahms。ThenwecametotheKreutzerSonata。ItisqueerhowTolstoyhasloadedthatwithsuggestions，debauchedit，madeitascandalousandintimatesymbol。WhenIhadplayedthefirstpartofthat，shecameuptothepianolaandhesitatedoverme。Isatstiffly——waiting。
Suddenlysheseizedmydowncastheadandkissedmyhair。Shecaughtatmyfacebetweenherhandsandkissedmylips。Iputmyarmsaboutherandwekissedtogether。Isprangtomyfeetandclaspedher。
“Beatrice！”Isaid。“Beatrice！”
“Mydear。”shewhispered，nearlybreathless，withherarmsaboutme。“Oh！mydear！”
Love，likeeverythingelseinthisimmenseprocessofsocialdisorganisationinwhichwelive，isathingadrift，afruitlessthingbrokenawayfromitsconnexions。Itellofthisloveaffairherebecauseofitsirrelevance，becauseitissoremarkablethatitshouldmeannothing，andbenothingexceptitself。Itglowsinmymemorylikesomebrightcasualflowerstartingupamidstthedebrisofacatastrophe。Fornearlyafortnightwetwometandmadelovetogether。Oncemorethismightypassion，thatouraimlesscivilisationhasfetteredandmaimedandsterilisedanddebased，grippedmeandfilledmewithpassionatedelightsandsolemnjoys——thatwereall，youknow，futileandpurposeless。OncemoreIhadthepersuasion“Thismatters。Nothingelsematterssomuchasthis。”Wewerebothinfinitelygraveinsuchhappinessaswehad。Idonotrememberanylaughteratallbetweenus。
Twelvedaysitlastedfromthatencounterinmychaletuntilourparting。
Exceptattheend，theyweredaysofsupremesummer，andtherewasawaxingmoon。Wemetrecklesslydaybyday。Weweresointentuponeachotheratfirstsointentuponexpressingourselvestoeachother，andgettingateachother，thatwetroubledverylittleabouttheappearanceofourrelationship。
Wemetalmostopenly。Wetalkedoftenthousandthings，andofourselves。Weloved。Wemadelove。Thereisnoproseofminethatcantellofhourstransfigured。Thefactsarenothing。
Everythingwetouched，themeanestthings，becameglorious。HowcanIrenderbaretendernessanddelightandmutualpossession？
Isithereatmydeskthinkingofuntellablethings。
IhavecometoknowsomuchoflovethatIknownowwhatlovemightbe。Weloved，scarredandstained；weparted——baselyandinevitably，butatleastImetlove。
IrememberaswesatinaCanadiancanoe，inareedy，bush-maskedshallowwehaddiscoveredoperatingoutofthatpine-shadedWokingcanal，howshefelltalkingofthethingsthathappenedtoherbeforeshemetmeagain。
Shetoldmethings，andtheysojoinedandweldedtogetherotherthingsthatlaydisconnectedinmymemory，thatitseemedtomeIhadalwaysknownwhatshetoldme。AndyetindeedIhadnotknownnorsuspectedit，saveperhapsforaluminous，transitorysuspicioneverandagain。
Shemademeseehowlifehadshapedher。ShetoldmeofhergirlhoodafterIhadknownher。“Wewerepoorandpretendingandmanaging。Wehackedaboutonvisitsandthings。Ioughttohavemarried。ThechancesIhadweren’tparticularlygoodchances。I
didn’tlike’em。”
Shepaused。“ThenCarnabycamealong。”
Iremainedquitestill。Shespokenowwithdowncasteyes，andonefingerjusttouchingthewater。
“Onegetsbored，boredbeyondredemption。OnedoesabouttothesehugeexpensivehousesIsuppose——thescale’simmense。Onemakesone’sselfusefultotheotherwomen，andagreeabletothemen。Onehastodress。Onehasfoodandexerciseandleisure，It’stheleisure，andthespace，andtheblankopportunityitseemsasinnottofill。Carnabyisn’tliketheothermen。He’sbigger。Theygoaboutmakinglove。Everybody’smakinglove。
Idid。AndIdon’tdothingsbyhalves。”
Shestopped。
“Youknew？”——sheasked，lookingup，quitesteadily。Inodded。
“Sincewhen？”
“Thoselastdays。Ithasn’tseemedtomatterreally。Iwasalittlesurprised“
Shelookedatmequietly。“Cothopeknew。”shesaid。“Byinstinct。Icouldfeelit。”
“Isuppose。”Ibegan，“once，thiswouldhavematteredimmensely。
Now——“
“Nothingmatters。”shesaid，completingme。“IfeltIhadtotellyou。IwantedyoutounderstandwhyIdidn’tmarryyou——withbothhands。Ihavelovedyou“——shepaused——“havelovedyoueversincethedayIkissedyouinthebracken。Only——I
forgot。”
Andsuddenlyshedroppedherfaceuponherhands，andsobbedpassionately——
“Iforgot——Iforgot。”shecried，andbecamestill。
Idabbledmypaddleinthewater。“Lookhere！”Isaid；“forgetagain！HereamI——aruinedman。Marryme。”
Sheshookherheadwithoutlookingup。