"It was certainly nice-hearted of you to come to
Clare's funeral," he began.

Close beside him she shivered, it might be at the
memory of that occasion. She was without a hat,
and he was able to study her profile: it was irregular,
with a low, girlish brow and a nose too heavy for
beauty; she had a full under lip and a strongly
modelled chin, a firm line ending in a generous
throat, milk-white in the gloom. Her figure too, he
judged, was too heavy for his standard of feminine
charm. His interest in her burned low, sustained
only by what he recognized as a conquest.

She walked slowly and more slowly as he dallied
by her side. Almost subconsciously he adopted the
tone by which he endeavored to enlist the interest of
the opposite sex: he repeated in a perfunctory manner
the stereotyped remarks appropriate for such
occasions.

She listened intently, with sudden, little glances
from a momentarily lifted gaze. He grew impatient
at the absence of the flattering responses to
which he was largely accustomed. And, dropping
abruptly his artificial courtesy, he maintained a sullen
silence, quickened his stride. He drew some
satisfaction from the observation that his reticence
hurt her. Her hands caught and strained together;
she looked at him with a longer, questioning gaze.

[[95]]

p094 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p095w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p096

v?