It was a mad half-hour. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. . It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. “It’s a flabby, loose-willed world we have to face. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. Then her fingers moved. Either you have had to love people or hate them—which is a sort of love, too, in its way—to get anything out of them. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. ‘Jacques, do not go!’ Jack gazed steadfastly at the floor. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment.
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