II-VI

The spring night was potent, warm and
damp; it was filled with intangible influences
which troubled the mind and stirred
the memory to vain, melancholy groping. Meta
Beggs was so close to Gordon that their shoulders
touched. He rolled a cigarette and lit it, resting his
arms upon the railing. Her face was white in the
gloom; not white as Lettice's had been, like a flower,
but sharply cut like marble; her nose was finely modelled,
her lips were delicately curved, but thin,
compressed. He could distinguish over her the
paramount air of dissatisfaction.

She aroused in him unbidden thoughts; without
the slightest freedom of gesture or words she gave
the impression of careless license. He grew instinctively,
at once, familiar, confidential, in his attitude
toward her. And she responded in the same
manner; she did not draw back when their arms
accidentally met.

An interest, a vivacity of manner, such as Gordon
had not experienced for weeks stirred in him. Meta
Beggs called back into being the old freedom of

[[178]]

p177 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p178w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p179

v?